\y 


^W  OF  PRlNcr^ 


^'^lOt.OG'Ul  SEV*''^^^ 


BX5995.H6  M38  1836 

McVickai",  John,  1787-1868. 

Early  years  of  the  late  Bishop  Hobart  / 


Tiir: 


EARLY     YEARS 


OF  THK    LATE 


BISHOP     HOBART. 


BY    JOHN    McVICKAR,    D.D 


'  The  boy  is  father  of  the  man.' — V/ordsxmrtJu 


NE  W-YORK: 

PRINTED    AT    THE   PROTESTANT    EPISCOPAL   PRESS. 


M  DCCC  XXaVI. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

Preface, 5 

Preface  to  Second  Edition, 9 

CHAPTER  I. 

Until  his  Entrance  into  the  University  in  his  Thirteenth  Year — 
Birth  —  Lineage  —  Family  Circumstances — Schools — Boyish 
Character, 11 

CHAPTER    II. 

From  his  Entrance  into  the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  in  his 
Thirteenth  Year,  until  his  Return  Home  from  Princeton  College 
in  the  Eighteenth  Year  of  his  Age — Companions — Philoma- 
thean  Society — Ciceronian — Impeachment  of  President — Re- 
moval to  Princeton — Letters  to  and  from  his  Mother,       .         .        27 

CHAPTER    III. 

Residence  at  College — Whig  and  Clio  Societies — Contest  for 
College  Honors — Character — Letters — Thoughts  of  tlie  Min- 
istry,               •        ....         60 

CHAPTER    IV. 
Intimacy  with  young  Skinner — Letters — Death — Character,      .        86 

CHAPTER  V. 

Intimacy  with   young   Forsyth  —  Letters  —  Death  —  Younger 

Brother — Intimacy  with  Grant,  Scott,  &c. — Letters,       .         .       102 

(  3  ) 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Page 

Family  Letters— Sickness— Early  Friends— Robertson — Grant 
— Scott» 127 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Change  of  Destination — Enters  a  Counting-house— Call  to  a 
Tutorship  at  Princeton — Removal — Duties — Companions — 
Intimacy  with  Young  Mercer — Letters,  ....       168 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

Graduate    Society — Themes — Favorite   Studies — Talents   as    a 

Public  Speaker — Devotion  to  the  Ministry — Ordination,  .       210 


PREFACE. 


The  perusal  of  the  letters  and  papers  of  the 
late  Bishop  Hob  art,  undertaken  with  a  differ- 
ent view,  has  led  to  the  following  narrative. 
It  may  be  that  in  the  publication  of  it,  the  au- 
thor, or  rather  the  editor,  for  letters  constitute 
the  main  portion,  has  overrated  the  interest 
of  the  reading  public  in  a  life  already  before 
them,*  and  a  character  which,  whatever  be 
its  excellences,  has  long  been  familiar  to  the 
members  of  his  own  communion,  while  to 
those  beyond,  it  can  hardly  be  said  to  offer 
such  claims  as  render  the  biography  of  public 
men  at  all  times  justifiable. 

In  the  face  of  all  these  difficulties  the  editor 
has  ventured  to   publish,   and   can   now  only 

*  To  the  biographies  here  alluded  to,  viz.,  '  A  Memorial  of 
Bishop  Hobart,'  by  the  Rev.  J.  F.  Schroedcr ;  and  the  larger 
'  Memoir '  prefixed  to  his  '  Works,"  by  the  Rev.  W.  Berrian,  D.  D., 
the  editor  would  take  this  opportunity  of  making  his  acknow- 
ledgments for  several  facts  and  statements,  the  original  authori- 
ties for  which  were  not  in  his  possession. 

(5) 


C  PREFACE. 

state  the  feelings  which  have  led  him  to  it. 
When  he  began  the  perusal  of  these  early 
letters,  they  seemed  to  him  but  as  boyish  effu- 
sions, of  but  little  value,  and  no  interest  beyond 
the  family  circle  to  v^^hich  they  related  ;  but 
as  he  proceeded  in  his  task,  their  number  and 
minuteness  began  to  give  life  to  the  picture 
they  presented  ;  one  by  one  the  features  of 
character  came  forth,  until  by  degrees  they 
embodied  themselves  into  a  beautiful  portraiture 
of  an  affectionate  and  generous  youth,  full  of 
ardor  and  native  piety,  and  devoted  to  every 
noble  and  benevolent  pursuit. 

This  is  the  editor's  first  apology,  since  if 
these  impressions  be  just,  such  a  picture  faith- 
fully given  cannot  be  without  both  interest  and 
value.  Virtue  and  piety  want  no  reflected 
lustre  from  a  great  name  ;  they  are  themselves 
the  pure  gold,  and  truth  and  sincerity  the  only 
stamp  they  need  to  give  them  currency. 

The  inclination  thus  excited  to  publish,  a 
further  consideration  converted  into  resolution. 
It  was  this  :  Bishop  Hobart's  character  was  in 
one  respect  .greatly  misunderstood  by  those 
who  knew  him  only  in  his  public  course.     The 


PREFACE.  7 

untiring  energy  with  which  he  devoted  himself 
to  official  duty,  was  reputed  by  many  to  be 
personal  ambition  ;  and  the  unyielding  firm- 
ness of  his  opinions  as  a  Churchman,  turned 
into  an  argument  against  his  vital  piety  as  a 
Christian.  The  native  humility  of  his  heart, 
the  depth  of  his  devotional  feelings,  the  evan- 
gelical tone  of  his  retired  piety,  were  matters 
either  wholly  unknown,  or  else  placed  to  the 
account  of  professional  duties.  Now  the  cor- 
rection of  such  false  opinion  is  a  debt  due  alike 
to  the  reputation  of  Bishop  Hobart,  and  to 
that  of  the  Church  over  which  he  presided  ; 
and  in  no  way,  perhaps,  can  it  be  more  effectu- 
ally done,  than  by  the  exhibition  of  him  in  the 
simplicity  and  open  sincerity  of  youth  ;  in  days 
when  there  were  no  ambitious  ends  to  gain, 
or  professional  proprieties  to  support,  and  in 
which  neither  fear  nor  favor  can  be  supposed 
to  have  operated,  to  blind  the  judgment  of 
those  around  him  as  to  his  real  character.  If 
we  then  find  him  as  a  boy,  what  he  afterward 
was  as  a  man,  active,  ardent,  fearless,  and 
devoted  ;  fervent  in  feeling,  but  wise  in  action; 
bold  in  duty,  but  childlik^  in  piety  ;  yielding  in 


8  PREFACE. 

matters  of  expediency,  but  uncomj^romising  in 
principle ;  gathering  around  him  wherever  he 
went  an  attached  circle  of  friends  and  followers, 
and  using  his  influence  over  them  to  the  wisest 
and  best  of  purposes — that  of  advancing  them 
in  knowledge  and  virtue,  and  above  all,  in  that 
holy  faith,  which  from  a  child  appears  to  have 
been  his  own  guide  and  instructer  ;  and  if  all 
this  be  found,  not  in  the  recollections  of  partial 
friends,  but  in  original  documents  which  per- 
sonal affection  has  preserved,  then  may  we 
fairly  answer  all  such  doubts  as  to  the  genuine- 
ness of  his  virtues,  by  an  appeal  to  the  unpre- 
tending, but  unsuspected  narrative  of  his  '  Early 
Years.' 

With  this  explanation  the  work  is  respect- 
fully submitted. 

Columbia  College,  October  15,  1834, 


PREFACE 


THE    SECOND    EDITION. 


The  rapid  sale  of  Bishop  Hobart's  '  Early- 
Years,'  has  caused  a  call  to  be  made  for  a 
Second  Edition  before  a  volume  of  his  '  Pro- 
fessional Years'  was  ready  for  the  press.  It  is 
intended,  however,  that  such  shall  soon  follow, 
the  demand  for  the  present  little  work  being 
to  the  author  sufficient  proof  that  the  interest 
taken  by  the  public  in  Bishop  Hobart's  char- 
acter is  not  yet  exhausted  ;  or  rather,  that 
the  interest  taken  in  native  traits  of  goodness, 
such  as  his  exhibits,  is  a  perennial  interest  that 
never  can  be  exhausted.  Facts  we  are  con- 
tented to  read  but  once,  for  our  curiosity  is 
satisfied ;  whereas  the  picture  of  generosity  and 
nobleness,  and  true-hearted  piety,  we  can  read 
and  re-read,  and  find  it  ever  fresh  and  new. 
In  this  light  the    author  regards    his  theme, 

and   if   he    fail   to    transfer   the    same    feel- 
1*  (  9  ) 


10  PREFACE   TO   THE   SECOND  EDITION. 

ing  to  his  readers,  he  believes  it  will  be  his 
fault,  not  that  of  his  subject.  In  the  mean- 
time the  present  volume  is  again  put  forth, 
vrith  a  few  slight  alterations  in  form  and  addi- 
tions in  matter.  Its  general  scope  the  author 
has  seen  no  reason  to  alter,  and  no  error  has 
been  pointed  out  in  the  facts.  It  is  again, 
therefore,  addressed  to  the  young  as  an  exam- 
ple of  what  may  be  done,  and  to  parents  as  a 
model  of  what  should  be  done,  in  education ; 
accompanied  with  the  prayer  of  one  who  is 
himself  a  father,  that  it  may  be  blest  in  its 
influence  on  the  rising  generation. 

Columbia  College,  December  20,  1835. 


MEM  OIR. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Until  his  Entrance  into  the  University  in  his  Thirteenth  Year — Birth — 

Lineag© — Family  Circumstances — Schools — Boyish  Character. 

John  Henry  Hobart  was  born  at  Philadel- 
phia, September  14th,  1775,  being  the  youngest 
son  of  Enoch  and  Hannah  (Pratt)  Hobart. 
The  time  and  place  of  his  birth  connect  his 
name  Avith  the  charter  of  our  Political  ^Inde- 
pendence, and,  as  well  observed  by  his  earliest 
biographer,  (Rev.  J.  F.  Schroeder,)  'his  strong 
patriotic  attachments  in  after-life,  his  great 
fearlessness  in  the  defence  of  truth,  and  all  the 
prominent  features  of  his  character,  mark  him 
a  worthy  child  of  the  Revolution.'  His  ances- 
try, it  may  be  added,  was  also  of  the  same  strain, 
fervent  in  spirit,  and  ardent  in  the  cause  of 
liberty.  The  founder  of  the  family  in  this  our 
western  world,  was  an  eminent  leader  among 
the  Pilgrim  fathers  of  New-England,  —  Ed- 
mund Hobart,  of  Hingham,  county  of  Norfolk, 
(England,)  who  in  1633  quitted  his  native  land, 
with  wife  and  children,  to  seek,  or  rather  to 
found,  in  the  wilderness  a  more  peaceful  home 

(  11  ) 


12  MEMOIROF 

than  England  then  afforded  to  nonconform- 
ists ;  while  the  feelings  of  the  unwilling  emi- 
grant appear  in  his  bestowing  upon  his  new 
resting-place  the  title  of  his  native  village  ;  the 
town  of  Hingham,  Plymouth  count}^,  Massa- 
chusetts, deriving  from  him  both  its  name  and 
first  settlement.  Of  colonies  thus  planted,  the 
success  obviously  depends  upon  the  good  influ- 
ence of  wives  as  well  as  husbands  ;  in  this 
respect  the  town  of  Hingham  was  fortunate, 
such  at  least  is  the  testimony  of  Cotton  Mather. 
'  Both  he  and  his  wife,'  says  that  simple-hearted 
narrator,  in  speaking  of  Edmund  Hobart,  '  were 
eminent  for  piety,  and  even  from  their  youth 
feared  God  above  many,  wherein  their  zeal  was 
more  conspicuous  by  the  impiety  of  the  neigh- 
borhood.' From  this  worthy  stock  thus  planted, 
came  forth  a  great  company  of  preachers. 
Peter  Hobart,  his  son,  was  among  the  eminent 
men  of  his  age,  at  least  in  the  new  world. 
Educated  in  all  the  learning  of  his  father's 
land,  he  quitted  the  University  of  Cambridge, 
(England,)  to  take  Orders  in  the  Estabhshed 
Church,  into  which  he  was  admitted  by  the 
Bishop  of  Norwich.  After  a  few  years,  how- 
ever, political  or  religious  bias  threw  him  into 
the  ranks  of  dissent ;  as  a  Puritan  divine,  he 
sought  the  shores  of  New-England  ;  and  join- 
ing his  father's  settlement  at  Hingham,  became 


BISHOP     HOBART.  13 

the  pastor  of  a  patriarchal  establishment.  With 
these  words  he  begins  his  journal  :  *  June  8th, 
1635.  I,  with  my  wife  and  four  children,  came 
safely  to  New-England,  for  ever  praised  be  the 
God  of  heaven,  my  God  and  King.'  But  this 
exclusive  tone  was  the  language,  we  may  be- 
lieve, rather  of  the  sect  than  the  individual, 
since,  though  he  was  characterized  as  '  a  bold 
man  that  would  speak  his  mind,'  yet  we  are  also 
assured  by  the  same  annalist,  that  '  he  would 
admire  the  grace  of  God  in  good  men,  though 
they  were  of  sentiments  contrary  to  his  ; '  and 
that  when  he  beheld  some  pragmatical  in  con- 
troversies, and  furiously  set  upon  having  all 
things  carried  their  way,  and  yet  destitute  of 
the  life  and  power  of  godliness,  he  would  say, 
'Some  men  are  all  Church  and  no  Christ.' 
He  was  noted  also  as  '  a  morning  student,  and 
a  great  example  of  temperance,'  while  his  well 
studied  sermons  are  said  to  have  been  like  their 
author,  '  bold  and  independent,  and  fuller  of 
exhortation  than  of  doctrine.'  Such  a  man 
was  well  suited  to  build  up  the  new  colony  on 
the  surest  of  all  foundations  ;  and  in  it,  accord- 
ing to  the  custom  of  those  more  abiding  times 
of  ministerial  service,  he  continued  to  labor  for 
forty-three  years,  until  called  to  his  reward.  — 
Where  he  first  pitched  his  tent,  there  he  set  up 
his  rest. 


14  MEMOIROF 

Of  his  eight  sons,  (for  it  seems  to  have  been 
also  in  this  sense  a  patriarchal  race,)  six  were 
graduated  at  Harvard,  the  newly-founded  uni- 
versity of  the  colony  ;  where,  if  they  failed  to 
acquire  all  the  learning  of  their  father,  they  at 
least  inherited  his  evangelical  spirit ;  five  of 
the  eight  becoming  Gospel  preachers.  But  his 
mantle  of  power  seems  rather  to  have  fallen 
upon  his  grandsons,  among  whom  we  find  the 
names  of  Brainard,  the  apostolic  missionary 
of  the  Indians,  and  the  Rev.  Noah  Hobart,  of 
Connecticut,  one  who  is  described  as  having 
had  in  his  day  *  few  equals  for  greatness  of 
genius  and  learning.'  The  next  generation 
brings  us  down  to  men  of  our  own  day  ;  and 
in  it  we  find,  in  addition  to  the  subject  of  our 
memoir,  the  name  of  the  late  Hon.  John  Sloss 
Hobart,  Judge  of  the  District  Court  in  the  State 
of  New-York,  of  whom  the  tablet  raised  to  his 
memory  by  the  bar  over  which  he  presided, 
gives  this  high  testimony,  —  *  As  a  man  firm,  as 
a  citizen  zealous,  as  a  judge  discriminating,  as 
a  Christian  sincere.' 

But  among  the  numerous  descendants  of  this 
'  Abraham  '  of  our  land,  in  the  third  generation 
we  find  one,  who  following  the  creed  of  his 
mother,  and  returning,  it  may  be  added,  to  that 
of  his  fathers,  attached  himself  to  the  Protestant 
Episcopal  Church,  established  in  Philadelphia, 


BISHOPHOBART.  13 

a  city  which,  through  his  father's  early  removal, 
had  become  the  place  of  his  birth.  This  was 
Captain  Enoch  Hobart.  His  labors  in  life, 
though  more  worldly  than  those  of  his  imme- 
diate predecessors,  do  not  seem,  however,  to 
have  been  wanting  in  that  spirit  which  alone 
had  sanctified  them,  the  spirit  of  vital  piety, — 
the  patriarchal  memory  of  the  venerable  Bishop 
White  enabling  him  to  recall  '  the  very  pew  in 
Christ  Church,  Philadelphia,  where  he  was  an 
habitual  attendant  with  his  wife  and  children  ; ' 
while  a  reputation  for  strict  integrity  honorably 
gained  and  long  remembered  in  the  West  India 
islands  with  which  he  traded,  shows  that  his 
religion  was  one  of  practice  as  well  as  profes- 
sion. From  the  labors  of  the  sea  he  retired  in 
middle  life  to  the  enjoyment  of  domestic  peace, 
and  a  very  moderate  competency.  He  died 
October  27th,  1776,  leaving  to  his  wife  the 
usual  inheritance  of  widowed  sorrow,  and  to 
his  children  little  beside  a  father's  blessing,  and 
the  legacy  of  a  good  name.  But  happily  for 
them  their  mother  was  not  wanting  in  the 
energy  requisite  to  her  desolate  condition. 
'  She  fulfilled  her  duties  toward  them,  as  has 
been  well  said,  with  the  prudence  of  a  father's 
judgment,  and  the  tenderness  of  a  mother's 
love.'  *     Out  of  nine  children,  four  had  pre- 

*  '  Memoir,'  p.  6. 


16  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

ceded  their  father  to  the  grave  ;  five  remained, 
two  sons  and  three  daughters,  to  awaken  a 
mother's  soUcitude,  as  well  as  console  her  grief. 
The  youngest  of  these,  an  infant  of  eleven 
months,  who  had  been  baptized  in  Christ 
Church  at  the  primitive  baptismal  age  of  four 
weeks,  under  the  name  of  John  Henry,  was 
the  subject  of  the  following  narrative,  and  on 
him,  as  there  naturally  rested  a  double  portion 
of  her  cares,  so  also  perhaps  of  her  widowed 
affections.  As  years  advanced,  under  her  pious 
instructions  he  was  trained  to  that  simple  but 
truest  wisdom,  which  mothers  can  best  teach  ; 
'  from  his  youth,'  it  is  said,  '  he  knew  the  Scrip- 
tures by  means  of  the  godly  counsels  which  she 
so  faithfully  inculcated.' 

Of  such  a  picture  it  is  pleasing  to  anticipate 
the  result,  and  to  learn  not  only  that  her  labors 
were  blessed  in  his  eminent  usefulness,  but  also 
that  she   herself  lived  to  witness   the  fruit  of 
them  ;  that  she  was  spared  not  only  to  follow 
him  with  her  prayers  in  his  preparation  for  the 
Church,  but  for  five  happy  years  to  be  herself 
an  attendant  upon  his  ministry  —  to  be  herself 
instructed  by  lips  which  she  had  first  taught  to 
utter  the  words  of  heavenly  wisdom,  and  to  be 
comforted  amid   the   sorrows  of  age,    by  the 
watchful  kindness  and  the   Christian  consola- 
tions of  one,  over  whose  infant  head  she  had 


BISHOP    no:}  ART.  17 

once  wept  and  prayed  the  tears  and  prayers  of 
a  disconsolate  widowed  mother.  Such  is  the 
boon  with  which  Heaven  rewards  those  whom 
in  love  it  chastens  ;  and  such  too,  we  may 
add,  looking  at  his  future  course,  is  the  bless- 
ing which  a  good  mother  may,  in  the  provi- 
dence of  God,  be  the  means  of  conferring  upon 
the  Christian  Church. 

Of  early  indications  of  talent  or  character 
little  can  be  told,  because  little  has  been  re- 
corded ;  but  by  such  as  knew  Bishop  Hobart 
in  after-life,  it  will  readily  be  conceived  that 
even  in  earliest  childhood  he  must  have  been 
*  no  vulgar  boy  ; '  warmth  of  heart  which  no 
intercourse  with  a  cold  and  selfish  world  could 
tame  or  lessen,  and  that  prompt  and  fearless 
energy  which  through  life  despised  all  danger 
in  the  path  of  duty,  are  traits  of  nature  which 
must  have  appeared  from  the  cradle,  and  made 
him  even  as  a  child  both  lovely  and  interesting. 
But  whatever  were  the  hopes  he  inspired,  they 
were  confined  to  a  narrow  circle,  *  laid  up,' 
probably,  only  in  the  heart  of  his  mother. 
That  they  were  not,  however,  wholly  unnoticed 
by  others,  we  have  the  testimony  of  one  early 
friend.  *  I  have  learned,'  says  Dr.  B.,*  *  from 
one  who  knew  him  in  early  youth,  and  who  was 

♦  The  Rev.  F.  W.  Beasely,  D.  D. 


18  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

intimate  with  his  family,  that  his  deportment, 
conversation,  opinions,  and  habits,  were  the 
frequent  and  favorite  theme  of  their  discourse  ; 
and  that  they  often  dwelt  with  delight  on  those 
incidents  which  shadowed  out  the  very  charac- 
ter that  he  finally  established.' 

His  first  instruction,  after  quitting  his  mo- 
ther's knee,  was  in  the  school  of  a  Mr.  Leslie, 
one  who  is  described  as  '  a  respectable  teacher, 
and  held  deservedly  in  esteem.'  His  acquisi- 
tions here  were,  however,  dearly  purchased,  if, 
as  he  himself  thought,  and  often  said,  was  then 
laid  in  his  constitution,  through  the  strict  con- 
finement of  the  school,  and  the  short  time 
allowed  for  relaxation  and  meals,  the  founda- 
tion of  that  dyspeptic  malady  under  which  he 
always  labored,  and  to  which  eventually  he 
fell  a  victim.  But  this  charge  may  be  doubted. 
The  habit  of  '  bolting  his  meals,'  as  he  himself 
termed  it,  lest  he  should  be  too  late  for  recita- 
tion, was  no  doubt  very  unfavorable  to  a  healthy 
digestion  ;  but  the  blame  we  may  well  imagine 
did  not  rest  altogether  on  the  teacher.  The 
boy  who  did  all  things  ardently,  was  not  likely 
to  waste  much  time  at  the  table,  even  when  left 
to  himself ;  for  his  books,  it  would  seem,  he 
devoured  as  pertinaciously,  as  he  did  his  food 
hastily,  and  paid  but  the  natural  penalty  of  ex- 
changing them  too  rarely  for  bat  and  ball.      *  I 


BISHOPHOBART.  19 

have  ever  felt,'  says  he  in  one  of  his  early  let- 
ters, '  an  almost  insatiable  desire  after  know- 
ledge.' 

A  fac-simile  is  here  annexed  of  the  earliest 
writing  found  of  his,  while  yet  a  child. 

In  his  ninth  year,  (1784,)  he  came  into 
higher  hands.  An  academy  was  organized 
in  Philadelphia  in  that  year,  under  Episcopal 
influence,  with  a  view  to  unite,  what  in  educa- 
tion is  too  often  divided,  religious  instruction 
to  form  the  character,  and  intellectual  instruc- 
tion to  furnish  the  mind.  To  this  institution 
young  Hobart  was  at  once  removed,  coming 
under  the  charge,  if  not  immediately,  at  least 
shortly  after,  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Andrews,  subse- 
quently Vice-Provost,  and  eventually  Provost 
of  the  University  in  the  same  city.  Here  he 
entered  upon  classical  studies, —  'starting  ex 
limine,'  says  one  of  his  surviving  companions, 
'  with  his  Latin  Grammar  and  Accidence.' 
How  strikingly  in  accord  were  the  characters 
of  teacher  and  scholar,  has  been  well  noticed 
by  Dr.  B.,  and  the  probable  influence  of  such 
associations  on  the  susceptible  heart  of  the 
latter.  But  it  is  due  to  the  memory  of  Dr. 
Andrews,  to  give  the  sketch  of  the  teacher,  as 
struck  off*  by  the  pen  of  one*  who  shared  in  the 

*  William  Meredith,  Esq.,  of  Philadelphia- 


20  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

benefit  of  his  instructions.  *  Dr.  Andrews  was 
known  to  be  one  of  the  ripest  classical  scholars 
in  the  country.  He  had  great  skill  and  expe- 
rience in  teaching,  and  never  spared  himself 
in  the  performance  of  duty  ;  besides,  in  his 
very  manners  and  appearance  there  was  that 
which  "  bespoke  a  man  "  —  all  that  conciliates 
affection  and  esteem,  and  challenges  profound 
respect.  He  was  a  Churchman  by  education 
and  conviction,  of  exalted  piety,  and  of  that 
loftiness  of  character  which  was  above  the 
reach  of  the  grovelling  or  crafty.  No  man 
was  at  a  loss  to  infer  his  motives  or  purposes, 
either  from  his  speech  or  actions.  He  was 
consistent,  open,  and  direct,  for  he  was  never 
of  that  school  of  time-serving  philosophers  with 
whom  policy  is  of  more  worth  than  sincerity 
and  truth.  His  passions  and  affections  were 
powerful  and  ardent,  and  appeared  the  more  so, 
as  the  constitutional  temperament  of  his  body 
was  nervous  ;  but  he  governed  them  well,  ob- 
serving the  Apostle's  precept,  "  Be  ye  angry 
and  sin  not."  Malice  and  vindictiveness  were 
unknown  to  him,  and  arrogance  was  contrary 
to  his  nature.  In  short,  a  more  frank,  honor- 
able, and  upright  man,  or  a  better  specimen  of 
a  Christian  gentleman,  has  never  fallen  within 
the  range  of  my  observation.  In  the  early 
history  of  the  American  Church,  it  is  well 
I 


BISHOPHOBART.  21 

known  that  he  was  among  the  most  able,  sound, 
and  zealous  of  her  sons.' 

For  four  years  young  Hobart  continued  to 
enjoy  the  combined  advantage  of  such  a  teacher 
and  such  a  model,  the  more  operative  in  both 
characters,  because  he  was  equally  loved  and 
admired. 

What  the  scholar  was  at  this  time,  may  be 
judged  from  the  recollections  of  the  same  com- 
panion and  friend.  '  Labor  vincit  omnia,  was 
one  of  Hobart's  earliest  lessons,  and  his  ruling 
sentiment.  His  improvement  was  marked  ac- 
cordingly. His  class-mates  were  all,  I  believe, 
his  seniors  ;  but  he  soon  gained  and  kept,  dur- 
ing his  whole  course,  the  enviable  distinction 
of  being  head  in  all  their  studies.  He  was  often 
honored  by  the  open  approbation  of  the  princi- 
pal, and  his  example  commended  to  imitation. 
The  trustees,  too,  at  the  stated  examinations, 
were  liberal  of  encomium,  and  the  popular 
voice  of  the  school  echoed  their  praise.' 

The  following  graphic  picture,  from  the  same 
pencil,  however  incongruous  its  associations 
may  be  with  the  idea  of  a  Right  Reverend,  is 
yet  in  excellent  keeping  with  our  notions  of  a 
fine  spirited  school-boy.  '  Among  boys,  rank 
is  generally  conceded  more  to  bodily  than 
intellectual  power.  It  was  less  the  case  in 
regard  to  Hobart  than  usual.     There  were  few 


23  M  E  M  O  I  R     0  F 

of  his  years  who  were  not  taller  or  more  robust 
than  he  ;  but  he  was  active,  muscular,  and 
well  set,  and  what  was  more  than  all  these,  he 
was  of  approved  courage  ;  hence  he  was  looked 
upon  as  a  combatant  to  be  respected,  if  not  to 
be  feared.  Besides,  he  was  ever  anxious  to 
have  his  quarrel  just ;  and  in  our  little  squab- 
bles on  the  play-ground,  and  more  serious 
rencontres,  we  often  heard  him  maintaining  its 
justice  by  impassioned  harangues,  which  in 
vehemence  might  well  have  suited  one  of  Ho- 
mer's heroes.  The  singularity  of  these  exer- 
cises, whether  they  convinced  or  not,  amused 
us,  and  often  made  strife  and  anger  give  place 
to  mirth  and  good-humor.  The  parley  afforded 
time  at  least  for  cooling  and  diversion  from  the 
cause  of  irritation  ;  but  if  the  onset  were  once 
made,  I  cannot  remember  an  instance  in  which 
our  young  friend  turned  his  back  upon  the  foe, 
whether  he  was  destined  at  last  to  be  crowned 
victor,  or  to  yield  in  defeat.  There  was  also 
a  manly  robustness  of  intellect  seldom  seen  in 
boyhood  ;  perseverance,  which  a  feeble  dis- 
cerner  might  term  obstinacy ;  a  high  sense  of 
honor,  and  an  independence  of  spirit  and  action 
which  humbled  itself  only  before  lawful  author- 
ity. He  was  valiant  as  Cesar.  He  set  great 
value  upon  reason  and  justice,  and  thinking 
they  ever  should  prevail,  he  always  seemed  to 


BI  S  n  O  P     HOB  ART.  23 

believe  they  icould,  if  properly  enforced.  One 
instance,  and  but  one  is  recollected,  in  which 
he  was  the  subject  of  corporal  chastisement  in 
the  academy.  It  was  inflicted  by  Mr.  E.,  a 
tutor,  who  was  an  exceeding  good  scholar,  but 
a  most  unamiable  man.  There  had  been  some 
disorderly  conduct,  and  Hobart  was  charged 
as  being  a  party  to  it.  He  replied  with  cool- 
ness and  respectfulness,  '  I  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it.'  Such  was  the  fact.  '  Who  made  the 
noise,  then  1 '  inquired  the  angry  tutor.  '  I  did 
not,'  answered  the  accused.  Punishment  fol- 
lowed for  his  refusal  to  inculpate  others.  There 
was  profound  silence  —  he  submitted.  And  I 
remember  the  stateliness  with  which  he  re- 
turned to  his  place,  while  a  buzz  of  applause 
sounded  through  the  room  :  the  triumph  was 
his,  while  the  defeat  was  E.'s,  who  was  shortly 
after  dismissed.  His  powers  as  a  declaimer 
were  considered  on  all  hands  as  very  remark- 
able ;  yet  in  this  he  would  be  his  own  teacher, 
and  have  his  own  way,  which  was  somewhat 
peculiar.  One  of  his  favorite  speeches  was  the 
popular  speech  of  Cassius  on  the  ambition  of 
Julius  Cesar.  He  had  studied  it  well,  and 
gave  it  with  admirable  eifect ;  but  there  was 
one  line,  in  which  though  never  failing  to  pro- 
duce ill-timed  smiles,  and  sometimes  laughter 
among  the   other   dramatis  personxy    he    ever 


24  ]M  E  M  0  I  R     OF 

persisted  in  perpetrating  the  same  ludicrous 
fault.' 

Such  a  character  was  one  for  love  as  well 
as  praise  ;  and  he  seems  accordingly  to  have 
gained  both,  equally  from  companions  and 
teachers.  Among  the  trustees  also  there  was 
one  who  watched  with  peculiar  interest  over 
the  fatherless  boy,  the  present  venerable  Bishop 
White  ;  who  may  with  peculiar  propriety  be 
termed  his  spiritual  parent, — his  apostolic  hands 
having  successively  baptized,  confirmed,  or- 
dained, and  consecrated  him  ;  and  last  of  all, 
mourned  over  him  as  a  father  mourns  over  a 
beloved  son. 

In  this  academy  his  active  social  spirit  soon 
found  materials  to  work  with.  He  organized 
while  but  in  his  tenth  year  an  association  among 
the  boys,  under  the  lofty  title  of  '  A  Society  for 
the  Advancement  of  its  Members  in  Useful 
Literature,'  of  which  Lilliputian  club,  as  but 
two  records  remain,  the  reader  may  be  curious 
to  see  them.  The  first  involved  a  nice  question 
of  law  ;  Mr.  W.  being  called  upon  for  an  essay, 
delivers  an  argument  instead,  justifying  his 
non-preparation  by  the  plea  that  his  turn  was 
past,  a  quorum  not  appearing  at  the  preceding 
meeting.  The  brief  of  this  youthful  apologist 
is  remitted  to  his  friend  Hobart  with  the  fol- 
lowing endorsement  :   *  Mr.  W.'s  compliments 


BISHOPHOBART.  25 

to  Mr.  H.,  and  would  be  obliged  to  him,  if  after 
adding  any  arguments  to  the  within,  he  would 
show  it  to  Mr.  B.,  &c.  Thursday,  25th  April, 
1785.'  The  other  document  exhibits  the  care 
with  which  their  scanty  treasury  was  guarded  ; 
it  consists  of  a  bill  against  the  society  for  three- 
quarters  of  a  yard  of  green  baize,  used  in  cover- 
ing the  speaker's  desk,  together  with  lock  and 
hinges  for  the  same,  amounting  in  the  whole  to 
four  shillings  and  ninepence.  This  account, 
after  being  examined  and  signed  by  an  auditing 
committee,  as  warrant  for  its  accuracy,  stands 
finally  endorsed  by  the  president,  with  an  order 
on  the  '  treasurer  to  pay  the  same  out  of  moneys 
not  otherwise  appropriated,  belonging  to  the 
society.'  With  so  well-guarded  a  treasury,  this 
society  escaped  one  frequent  cause  of  ruin ; 
but  it  could  not  guard  against  a  more  fatal  blow, 
the  early  removal  of  its  founder  to  another  and 
higher  school,  where,  however,  the  association 
seems  to  have  reappeared  under  a  new  though 
less  imposing  title. 

Among  other  childish  records  preserved  by 
a  mother's  care  of  this  early  period,  is  the  fol- 
lowing letter,  evincing  at  least  two  good  traits 
in  a  school-boy, — love  of  books,  and  filial 
submission. 

'  According  to  my  promise,  I  attempt  writing 
to  my  dear  Mamma,  knowing  that  it  will  give 
2 


26.  MEMOIROF 

her  pleasure  to  hear  from  me.  I  got  to  town 
safe  on  Friday,  at  about  4,  to  my  great  joy,  as 
the  cold  was  very  intense.  If  my  dear  mother 
recollects,  I  bought  some  time  ago  Elegant 
Extracts  in  prose ;  I  have,  since  I  came  to  town, 
taken  out  of  the  library  Elegant  Extracts  in 
verse,  and  find  it  abounds  with  so  many  pieces 
proper  for  speaking,  that  I  cannot  avoid  asking 
my  dear  Mamma's  permission  to  buy  it.  I 
cannot  get  it  out  of  the  library  again,  as  it  is  a 
book  so  much  sought  after,  that  if  I  had  not 
gone  to  the  library  the  first  day  of  its  opening, 
I  should  not  have  got  it.  Even  if  I  could,  it 
would  be  necessary  for  me  to  take  it  to  school, 
where  it  would,  perhaps,  meet  with  abuse  ;  and 
as  the  Extracts  which  I  now  have  are  not  so 
valuable  without  the  other,  1  hope  you  will 
consent  to  my  buying  it :  Sister  Becky  can  give 
testimony  to  its  merit.' 

Such  a  coaxing  petitioner  was  not,  it  seems, 
easily  refused,  and  his  next  letter  thus  com- 
mences :  '  I  have  just  time  to  inform  my  dear 
Mamma  that  I  am  too  sensible  of  her  kindness 
in  permitting  me  to  buy  "  Elegant  Extracts," 
ever  to  exact  any  thing  from  her  again,'  &c. 


BISHOP     HOBART.  '27 


CHAPTER   II. 


Prom  his  Entrance  into  the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  in  his  Thirteenth 
Year,  until  his  Return  Home  from  Princeton  College  in  the  Eighteenth 
Year  of  his  Age — Companions — Philomathean  Society — Ciceronian 
— Impeachment  of  President — Removal  to  Princeton — Letters  to  and 
from  his  Mother. 

From  the  Episcopal  academy  he  was  re- 
moved in  due  course  of  advance,  as  already 
hinted  at,  to  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 
The  same  pre-eminence  here  also  aw^aited  him, 
for  his  academic  virtues  rested  on  no  sandy 
foundation.  Busy  he  would  have  been  at  any 
rate,  because  by  nature  he  hated  idleness  :  but 
that  he  was  busy  in  good  things,  was  a  matter 
not  of  nature  but  of  principle  ;  he  used  well 
his  opportunities  of  improvement,  because  he 
felt  that  he  must  render  an  account  of  them. 

How  early  such  conscientious  impressions 
may  become  rooted  in  the  mind  of  a  child,  it  is 
not  easy  to  say :  this  at  least  we  know,  that  reli- 
gion is  the  smallest  of  all  seeds,  and  grows  up, 
men  know  not  how ;  but  still  it  is  easy,  as  here, 
to  recognise  its  fruits,  and  every  such  instance 
becomes  a  valuable  record,  in  order  to  en- 
courage parents  in  the  same  course  of  watch- 
ful Christian  guidance.  In  his  fifteenth  year, 
young  Hobart  gave  evidence  of  his  mind  being 


28  MEMOIROF 

made  up  on  this  point,  and  made  a  public  pro- 
fession of  his  religious  faith,  being  confirmed 
by  Bishop  White,  31st  March,  1790. 

Aided  by  good  talents,  and  guided  by  such 
principles,  we  are  not  surprised  to  learn,  that 
although  the  youngest  in  his  class,  he  was  yet 
considered  '  one  of  its  best  and  most  promising 
scholars.'  In  study  laborious,  in  all  his  duties 
faithful,  in  affections  warm,  in  action  prompt, 
and  in  speech  sincere  and  earnest,  '  he  showed 
forth,'  as  has  been  observed  by  one  of  his 
early  companions,  '  the  same  ardent  and  active 
mind  which  was  so  fully  developed  in  subse- 
quent life.'  How  he  appeared  to  strangers,  is 
well  given  by  one  whom  chance  about  this 
time  made  a  friend.  '  I  first  met  with  him,' 
says  Mr.  R.,*  '  in  the  month  of  September, 
1791,  when  he  was  about  sixteen  years  of  age. 
He  had  a  short  time  before  left  the  University 
of  Pennsylvania,  and  it  was  decided  by  his 
family,  and  approved  of  by  himself,  that  he 
should  finish  his  collegiate  education  at  Prince- 
ton. I  then  resided  in  the  family  of  Robert 
Smith  of  Philadelphia,  who  was  married  to  a 
sister  of  Mr.  Hobart.  It  was  in  this  family 
that  I  became  acquainted  with  him.  I  have  at 
this  time  a  distinct  and  lively  recollection  of 

♦  James  Robertson,  Esq.,  of  Richmond,  Virginia. 


BISHOP     HOBART.  29 

our  first  meeting,  and  of  the  general  tenor  of 
our  conversation  during  the  evening  which  we 
spent  together  ;  and  before  we  parted,  I  formed 
an  attachment  to  him  which  I  have  never 
ceased  to  cherish.  He  was  between  two  and 
three  years  younger  than  I  was,  and  had  been, 
from  the  usual  age,  employed  in  the  appro- 
priate studies  preparatory  to  a  classical  educa- 
tion. On  the  other  hand,  mine  had  been  very 
limited,  confined  to  our  own  language,  and 
what  was  usually  taught  in  a  common  English 
school.  Notwithstanding  these  differences, 
however,  in  our  previous  occupations  and  pur- 
suits, and  in  our  views  and  prospects  of  after- 
life, we  became  friends  at  once.  At  the  very 
first  interview  we  felt  entire  confidence  in  each 
other,  and  entered  fully  into  each  other's  feel- 
ings, wishes,  and  hopes.  He  looked  forward 
with  pleasure  to  the  many  advantages  which 
Princeton  then  held  forth  to  young  men,  who 
would  faithfully  avail  themselves  of  them,  while 
I,  with  a  strong  desire  for  improvement,  was 
doomed  to  drudge  at  an  employment  always 
irksome  to  me,  but  which  necessarily  occupied 
the  most  of  my  time  and  attention.  He 
cheered  me,  however,  and  even  at  that  early 
period  of  life,  pressed  upon  me,  from  the 
weightiest  of  all  considerations,  the  duty  of 
being  reconciled  to  my  situation, — urging,  that 


30  M  E  M  O  I  R     0  F 

while  I  faithfully  discharged  the  duties  which 
it  imposed  upon  me,  and  made  the  best  use  of 
the  leisure  that  might  be  left,  I  would  probably 
be  gaining  that  kind  of  information  which  would 
contribute  as  much  to  my  own  happiness  and 
to  my  usefulness  in  society,  as  if  I  were  to  de- 
vote the  whole  of  my  time  to  literary  pursuits. 
I  have  never  forgotten  his  suggestions  ;  and  if 
I  have  not  realized  the  hopes  which  his  animat- 
ing conversation  led  me  to  indulge,  my  disap- 
pointment has  not  lessened  my  confidence  in 
the  soundness  and  sincerity  of  his  advice.' 

Young  Hobart  entered  the  University  before 
he  had  completed  his  thirteenth  year.  Here 
also  an  association  among  the  students  for  the 
purpose  of  improving  themselves  in  composition 
and  oratory,  quickly  appeared  under  the  more 
learned  title  of  the  '  Philomathean  Society.'  Its 
rules  and  regulations  have  come  down  to  us  in 
his  boyish  hand,  whence  we  may  fairly  conjec- 
ture that  he  was  its  founder.  One  provision 
strongly  marks  his  character,  viz.  the  necessity 
of  supervision  in  the  case  of  all  who  have  re- 
sponsible duties  to  perform  : — '  Sect.  13.  A 
committee  of  three  shall  be  appointed  at  the 
meeting  previous  to  the  annual  election,  to 
examine  in  what  manner  the  secretary  and 
treasurer  have  done  their  duti/f  and  shall  make 
report  thereon  at  the  next  meeting.'     In  after- 


BISHOP     HOB  ART.  31 

life  he  used  on  all  occasions  to  urge  this  prin- 
ciple. As  a  trustee  of  Columbia  College,  the 
question  often  came  up ;  and  to  a  near  friend 
among  its  professors,  who  sometimes  thought 
such  a  course  of  supervision  argued  a  want  of 
confidence  in  them,  he  would  urge  this  reply  : 
'  No,  Sir,  not  a  want  of  confidence  in  you,  but 
in  human  nature  :  it  is  part  of  a  system  of 
duties  ; — you  are  to  see  that  the  students  do 
their  duty  —  we  are  to  see  that  the  professors 
do  their  duty ;  and  it  would  be  well  for  the 
college  if  there  were  som.e  who  would  do  the 
same  good  office  by  us,  and  see  that  we,  the 
trustees,  do  ours.'  Nor  were  the  duties  of 
members  under  this  young  Mentor  to  be  less 
strictly  enforced  than  those  of  their  officers, 
as  may  appear  from  the  following  list  of  fines  : 

Sect.   18.    For  absence  the  whole  evening,  a  member 

shall  be  fined      -        -        -  12  pence. 

For  absence  at  roll-call,  -  2  pence. 
For  absence  till  one  hour  after 

roll-call,  -  -  -  .  6  pence. 
For   neglecting   to    bring    an 

essay,  -  -  -  -  1 2  pence. 
For  neglecting  to   deliver  an 

oration,      -        -        -        _  8  pence. 

For  not  debating,  -        -        -  12  pence. 

Beside  being  subject  to  domiciliary  visits  to 
ascertain  the  causes  of  absence. 


3:J  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

From  no  further  notice  appearing'  of  this 
society  among  his  juvenile  papers,  and  from  the 
circumstance  of  another,  similar  in  its  design, 
shortly  after  calling  forth  all  his  ardor,  it  may 
be  presumed  that  the  '  Philomathean '  came  to 
an  early  end.  Whether  that  fate  arose  from 
such  over-strictness  in  enforcing  duty,  as  might 
well  have  made  the  members,  Spartan-like, 
prefer  war  to  peace,  for  the  sake  of  a  little 
repose  ;  or  from  the  weight  of  fines,  which  as 
all  school-boys  know,  come  very  unwillingly 
out  of  youthful  pockets  ;  or  lastly,  from  the 
tedium  of  the  occupation  prescribed  for  the 
leisure  time  of  the  members,  viz.  that  it  should 
be  filled  up  by  the  president's  reading  aloud  to 
them  '  a  portion  out  of  some  approved  treatise 
on  rhetoric,'  it  is  impossible  now  to  say.  Suffice 
it  to  add,  that  to  the  '  Philomathean'  the 
'  Ciceronean '  soon  succeeded  ;  and  from  a 
farewell  address  that  has  come  down  to  us, 
made  to  it  by  young  Hobart  in  the  year  1797, 
previous  to  his  taking  Orders,  appears  to  have 
enjoyed  a  more  prolonged  and  vigorous  exist- 
ence. He  had  probably,  by  this  time,  learned 
wisdom  by  experience,  and  made  a  little  more 
allowance  for  indolence  in  its  members,  and 
furnished  for  their  leisure  moments  a  more 
agreeable  relaxation  than  the  pages  of  Quinti- 
lian  or  Blair. 


BISHOP     HOB  ART.  33 

Of  this  third  society  also,  the  '  rules  and 
regulations '  appear,  by  the  draft  preserved,  to 
have  come  from  his  pen.  To  what  cause  of 
offence  the  following  official  communication 
relates,  there  is  no  further  evidence  to  explain. 

To  Mr.  John  H.  Hobart. 

Saturday,  12th  December,  1789. 

Sir, — The  president  and  members  of  the  Ciceronian 
Society  having  promised  themselves  a  happiness  in 
having  you  continue  a  member  of  the  institution,  had 
their  expectation  frustrated  by  the  perusal  of  your 
polite  letter  of  28th  ultimo.  They,  while  reluctantly 
accepting  your  resignation,  cannot  refrain  from  inform- 
ing you,  that  although  your  resignation  is  accepted, 
they  flatter  themselves  that  when  the  impediments  you 
speak  of  are  removed,  you  will  have  it  in  your  power 
to  associate  with  them.  In  the  mean  time,  your  con- 
tinuance as  an  Jwnorai-y  member  would  oblige  them, 
and  in  some  degree  perhaps  benefit  yourself. 
Signed  by  order  of  the  Society. 

James  D.  Westcott,  Pres. 

Attest,  James  Milnor,  Sech-y. 

Whatever  were  the  difficulties  here  alluded 
to,  it  would  seem  they  were  soon  removed,  for 
we  shortly  after  meet  with  him  an  active  and 
influential  member  of  the  society,  and  eventu- 
ally its  head  and  leader. 

Before  that  event,  however,  we  find  him 
playing  an  important  part  in  the  impeachment 


34  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

of  its  president,  for  high  and  grave  misde- 
meanors. The  articles  bear  the  signature  of 
'  John  Henry  Hobart,'  in  such  manner  as  to 
indicate  him  as  their  author.  Tiiey  are  as 
follows,  and  strongly  display,  what  in  life  he 
always  manifested,  a  spirit  that  rose  in  rebellion 
against  all  tyrannical  exercise  of  power  ;  the 
illustration  they  afford  of  character  must  be 
the  apology  for  their  introduction. 

'  ARTICLES    OF    IMPEACHMENT. 

Whereas,  we  the  subscribers,  deem  it  of  the  highest 
importance  to  the  welfare  of  the  Ciceronian  Society, 
that  a  watchful  eye  be  kept  on  the  conduct  of  its 
officers,  lest  they  exceed  the  bounds  of  their  authority 
prescribed  by  the  constitution  :  And  whereas,  we  also 
think  that  when  they  have  exceeded  such  bounds, 
those  measures  should  be  pursued  which  the  constitu- 
tion directs  : 

Therefore^  we,  viewing  Aquila  M.  Bolton,  president 
of  this  Society,  as  having  usurped  authority  not  dele- 
gated to  him  by  the  Society,  do  respectfully  offer  the 
following  articles  of  impeachment  against  him,  the  said 
president ;  at  the  same  time  assuring  the  Society,  that 
in  this  proceeding  we  are  actuated  entirely  by  a  desire 
to  promote  the  welfare  of  the  institution. 

Article  1 .  —  That  the  said  Aquila  M.  Bolton  has 
tyrannically  obstructed  that  freedom  of  debate  which  is 
the  privilege  of  every  member  of  this  institution,  by 
interrupting  the  members  frequently,  and  calling  them 
to  order  when  their  behavior  has  not  been  disorderly. 


BISHOP     HOB  ART.  35 

Article  2.  —  That  the  said  Aquila  M.  Bolton  has 
usurped  the  privilege  of  speaking  repeatedly  upon  ques- 
tions pending  before  the  Society,  without  their  leave. 

Article  3.  —  That  the  said  Aquila  M.  Bolton  has 
refused  to  put  a  question,  although  unanimously  called 
upon  by  the  Society. 

Article  4.  —  That  the  said  Aquila  M.  Bolton,  incon- 
sistent with  the  character  of  a  good  officer,  has  suffered 
personal  motives  to  actuate  his  conduct  as  president. 

Article  5.  —  That  the  said  Aquila  M.  Bolton  has 
arbitrarily  imposed  fines  for  misbehavior.' 

The  defence  of  this  youthful  Cesar,  as  drawn 
up  and  delivered  by  himself,  has  fortunately 
also  escaped  the  ravages  of  time,  and  exhibits 
a  spirit  that  might  well  grace  a  usurper.  It 
opens  as  follows  : 

'  Whereas,  I,  Aquila  M.  Bolton,  deem  it  of  the 
highest  importance  to  the  welfare  of  this  institution, 
that  the  officers  of  this  Society  should  not  be  factiously 
divested  of  those  powers  granted  to  them  by  the  con- 
stitution, and  which  are  absolutely  requisite  to  preserve 
that  order  and  regularity  in  the  Society,  without  which 
no  business  can  be  transacted  without  confusion  :  And 
whereas  I  also  think,  that  where  they  have  in  a  peaceful 
and  proper  manner  exerted  their  power  to  the  utmost, 
when  such  an  exertion  was  necessary,  but  have  not 
exceeded  such  prescribed  bounds,  their  conduct  should 
not  be  iiapeached,  but  on  the  contrary  applauded : 
And  whereas  also,  an  impeachment  has  been  presented 
against  me  as  president  of  this  Society,  without  suffi- 
cient grounds  to  support  it  —  Therefore,  it  is  incumbent 


36  MEMOIROF 

on  me  to  justify  myself  from  the  censure  of  my  fellow- 
members.  Wherefore,  trusting  to  my  innocence, 
relying  on  the  rectitude  of  my  intentions  toward  pre- 
serving the  honor  of  the  Society  from  the  insults  of  one 
or  two  members,  and  hoping  to  meet  with  an  impartial 
hearing,  I  beg  leave  to  lay  before  the  members  of  the 
Society  the  following  answers  to  the  charges  exhibited 
against  me  in  the  said  impeachment.' 

This  defence  occupies  nine  folio  pages  of 
manuscript,  and  is  marked  both  by  candor  and 
ingenuity.  On  the  subject  of  the  second 
charge,  he  says,  *  I  acknowledge  myself  guilty 
of  speaking  on  questions  without  the  leave  of 
the  Society  ;  but  then  I  assert  I  have  that 
right — that  all  preceding  presidents  have  exer- 
cised it —  that  there  is  nolaw  forbidding  it  — 
and  that  all  the  members  of  the  Society  united 
cannot,  without  the  most  flagrant  injustice, 
impeach  my  conduct.  In  this  respect  I  did 
not  violate,  I  acted  agreeably  to  the  constitu- 
tion. Whereas,  by  impeaching  me  on  this 
article,  you  who  so  vote  become  the  trans- 
gressors, and  violate  that  constitution  you  pre- 
tend to  be  so  tenacious  of  protecting.'  The 
charge  contained  in  another  article,  he  thus 
rebuts  :  *  Consider  in  what  a  perplexed  situa- 
tion I  then  was,  sitting  as  president,  called  upon 
to  do  the  duties  of  the  office,  opposed  by  one 
who  undertook  to  officiate  in  my  stead.     But, 


BISHOP     HOBART.  37 

thanks  to  our  excellent  constitution,  there  was 
a  means  of  silencing  this  upstart,  by  the  exer- 
cise of  another  power  lodged  in  the  breast  of 
the  president  —  I  mean  that  of  fining  members 
for  disorderly  behavior.  I  had  recourse  to  this 
expedient.  I  was  not  afraid  of  doing  my  duty. 
I  expected  I  should  have  been  supported  by 
you.  I  fined  Mr.  Hobart,  therefore,  for  the 
gross  misbehavior  of  preventing  the  president 
from  doing  that  duty,  for  the  not  doing  of  which 
he  is  here  impeached.  I  am  not  sorry  I  did 
so  ;  it  is  a  matter  of  exultation  to  me.  After 
thus  fining  the  secretary,  he  (to  his  honor  be  it 
spoken)  informed  the  Society  he  would  pay  his 
fine.  Notwithstanding  this  declaration,  a  mem- 
ber, (Mr.  M.,)  without  addressing  himself,  as  is 
usual,  to  the  president,  said,  "he  moved  that  the 
Society  do  remit  Mr.  Hobart's  fine."  Upon 
this  a  question  of  remission  was  called  for. 
This  question  I  refused  to  put.  I  told  the 
Society  that  I  could  not,  and  icould  not  put  that 
question.  This  declaration  of  mine  gave 
offence.  I  will  justify  it.  The  power  of  fining 
is  discretionary  with  the  president — I,  as  presi- 
dent, exerted  this  power.  I  fined  the  secretary 
as  a  reprehension  for  his  conduct.  I  con- 
ceived his  conduct  was  reprehensible,  and 
agreeably  to  the  constitution,  not  contrary  to 
it,  I  fined  him  ninepence.'     In  answer  to  the 


38  MEMOIROF 

fourth  charge,  he  justifies  himself  on  the  score 
of  wounded  gentlemanly  feelings.  '  When 
gentlemen,'  says  he,  *  censured  the  committee 
who  wrote  the  letter  to  Mr.  Wagner,  I,  not  as 
president,  but  as  a  private  member  and  chair- 
man of  that  committee,  denied  the  charge. 
They  repeated  the  censure,  when  I  spoke  as 
president,  in  precisely  these  words  :  '  The 
committee  denies  it.'  Sure  any  member  must 
be  sensible  that  such  a  denial  was  admissible, 
and  certainly,  gentlemen,  you  will  admit  that 
because  I  was  president,  I  was  not  therefore 
debarred  from  defending  my  conduct  as  a 
committee-man.  If  this  should  be  so  judged, 
what  member,  possessed  of  common  sense, 
would  accept  of  the  presidentship  ?  I,  as  an 
individual,  would  contemn  the  office.  Since, 
although  charges  against  such  were  unfounded, 
as  in  the  present  instance,  they  would  yet 
appear  valid,  because  uncontradicted.' 

He  concludes  his  spirited  defence  in  these 
indignant  words  :  *  Upon  the  whole,  gentle- 
men, you,  the  members  of  this  Society,  are  to 
decide  whether  I  am  guilty  of  misbehavior  in 
the  execution  of  the  presidentship,  as  charged 
in  the  impeachment,  or  whether  I  am  not. 
Consider  well — lay  your  hand  on  your  heart 
and  decide  justly.  I  ask  no  lenity — I  wish  a 
just  decision.     I  covet  nobody's  vote — nay,  I 


EISHOPHOBART.  39 

wish  none  to  vote  *  not  guilty,'  without  being 
clearly  of  opinion  that  I  am  innocent.  Your 
suffrages  will  exist  on  the  journal — they  will 
remain  as  a  stigma  or  an  honor.  To  each  inde- 
pendent voter  on  this  impeachment,  this  defence 
is  submitted  by  their  friend  and  fellow-member, 

Aquila  M.  Bolton.' 

The  minutes  of  the  meeting,  '  Thursday, 
July  28th,  1790,'  contain  the  eventful  result  of 
this  high  trial.  '  On  motion  that  the  articles 
of  impeachment  be  taken  up,  the  president  left 
the  chair,  and  Mr.  Westcott  being  placed 
therein,  the  articles  of  impeachment  were 
read,  and  after  defence  made,  the  question 
taken  upon  each  stood  thus  :  on  the  first, 
third,  and  fifth,  guilty  ;  on  the  second  and 
fourth,  not  guilty.     The  sentence  was  one  of  : 

disgrace,  viz.,  *  That  Aquila  M.  Bolton,  presi-  \ 

dent  of  the  Ciceronian  Society,  for  the  offences 
of  which  he  has  now  been  convicted,  be  repri- 
manded by  the  president  pro  tern.,  which  was 
done  accordingly.'  But  the  indignity  touched 
too  keenly  this  high-spirited  youth,  to  permit 
him  to  remain  in  office.  '  Mr.  Bolton,'  the 
minutes  go  on  to  say,  '  then  informed  the 
Society,  that  in  consequence  of  this  condem- 
nation, which  he  could  but  think  was  extremely 
unjust,  and  by  which  he  thought  all  reciprocity 


40  MEMOIROF 

of  good  offices  between  the  president  and 
members  was  ended,  he  conceived  he  was  not 
bound  to  continue  in  an  office  for  which  he 
had  now  imbibed  an  aversion,  and  therefore  he 
peremptorily  abdicated  the  office  of  president 
of  this  Society.' 

Now  whether  this  were  a  case  of  tyranny 
successfully  resisted,  or  of  a  firmness  too  inde- 
pendent to  be  popular,  cannot  at  the  present 
day  be  very  clearly  arrived  at.  Montesquieu 
says,  '  Wo  to  the  character  of  a  prince  who 
falls  under  a  successful  rebellion.'  And  here, 
unquestionably,  the  secretary  has  the  history 
in  his  own  hands  ;  yet,  even  from  his  enemies' 
showing,  Bolton  played  well  the  hero's  part, 
and  seems  to  have  had  hard  measure  dealt  to 
him,  especially  when,  at  the  ensuing  meeting, 
he  moved  a  'declaration  of  a  bill  of  rights  to 
be  entered  on  the  minutes,  immediately  after 
the  determination  of  the  impeachment ; '  a 
motion  which  the  Society  thought  proper  in- 
definitely to  postpone  the  consideration  of. 
Whether  this  individual  be  living  or  dead,  the 
editor  knows  not,  nor  even  whether  he  grew 
up  to  man's  estate  ;  most  probably  not,  since 
he  certainly  displayed  in  this  youthful  contest, 
talent,  that  in  life  could  not  have  been  hid,  and 
traits  of  character  that  must  have  made  such 
talent  not  only  respected  but  feared. 


BISHOPHOBART.  41 

How  far  the  part  which  young  Hobart  took 
in  this  matter,  in  which  he  stood  forth  as  '  the 
Hampden'  of  their  liberties,  endeared  him  to 
the  Society,  can  only  be  surmised.  It  is  cer- 
tain, however,  that  after  a  short  interval,  he 
became  the  popular  candidate  for  the  highest 
office,  and  was  accordingly  placed  in  the  pre- 
sidential chair.  An  extract  from  the  minutes 
of  that  date  may  serve  to  show,  from  the 
subjects  selected  for  debate,  that  the  '  amor 
patriae  '  was  still  burning  fiercely  in  the  bosoms 
of  members. 

'  Saturday,  2d  October,  1790. 

•  Society  met.  Mr.  Purnell  presented  an  essay  on 
oratory.  Mr.  Morgan  delivered  an  oration  '  on  the 
advantage  of  a  strict  adherence  to  truth.'  The  Society 
then  proceeded  to  debate  the  question,  '  whether  Brutus 
was  to  be  justified  in  ordering  his  two  sons  to  be  put  to 
death  ? '  the  question  being  taken,  it  was  determined  in 
the  affirmative.  The  Society  then  proceeded  to  the 
election  of  president,  when  upon  casting  up  the  votes, 
it  appeared  that  John  Henry  Hobart  was  duly  elected. 
Mr.  O.  Wilson  proposed  the  following  as  the  subject  of 
debate  for  the  next  meeting  —  (whether  suggested  by 
the  result  of  the  election  is  not  said)  — '  Was  Brutus 
justifiable  in  killing  Cesar  ? ' 

The  secretary  thus  becoming  president,  we 
have  no  more  rough  minutes  to  refer  to  ;  so 
that  whether  the   second  Brutus  received  an 


42  M  E  JM  0  I  R     O  F 

equally  lenient  verdict  with  his  great  ancestor, 
and  whether  any  comparison  was  drawn  be- 
tween the  tyranny  of  Cesar  and  that  of  Bolton, 
or  between  Hobart  and  the  *  last  of  the  Ro- 
mans,' must  now  be  left  to  conjecture.  The 
whole  history,  however,  marks  it  to  have  been 
one  of  exciting  interest,  and  shows  how  the 
talents  of  the  man  may  be  called  forth  by  the 
discussions  of  the  boy. 

As  young  Hobart  removed  in  the  course  of 
the  following  winter  to  the  college  at  Princeton, 
where  higher  duties  and  a  more  manly  compe- 
tition awaited  him,  we  hear  but  little  after  this 
of  the  '  Ciceronian  Society.'  His  resignation 
of  the  presidency,  which  was  thus  rendered 
necessary,  was  at  least  under  more  agreeable 
circumstances  than  his  great  predecessor's. 
The  following  letter  from  a  fellow-member,  is 
the  only  further  record  in  relation  to  its  in- 
terests. 


'  Philadelphia,  April  bth,  1791. 
My  dear  Friend, 

I  have  nothing  to  plead  in  excuse  for  not  having 
answered  your  last  acceptable  favor,  except  the  want 
of  a  convenient  opportunity.  My  friend,  Mr.  W. 
Langdon,  will  now  hand  you  this.  I  frequently  think 
of  you,  my  dear  fellow,  with  pleasure,  when  I  consider 
how  advantageously  you  are  employing  your  time  in 
the  pursuit  of  those  studies  which  will   not  only  be 


BISHOPHOBART.  43 

honorable  to  yourself,  but  beneficial  to  mankind.  And 
I  sometimes  have  the  vanity  to  suppose  that  you  also, 
in  a  leisure  moment,  think  of  me ;  and  that  you  will 
participate  in  a  degree  with  me  in  the  pleasure  I  have 
in  informing  you,  that  although  the  success  I  meet  with 
in  prosecuting  my  studies  cannot  equal  yours,  on 
account  of  the  difference  in  our  capacities  and  inclina- 
tion for  study  ;  yet  that  I  make  a  progress  at  present 
much  more  satisfactory  to  myself,  than  in  the  former 
part  of  my  reading.  I  wish,  my  dear  Hobart,  you 
would  fix  on  the  profession  of  the  law  :  I  can  without 
flattery  say,  that  I  think  you  admirably  calculated  for 
it,  both  from  genius  and  an  apt  method  of  delivering 
your  sentiments,  one  of  the  greatest  essentials  to  the 
advocate.  Although  I  am  delighted  to  hear  of  your 
success,  yet  I  wish  you  may  not  injure  your  health  by 
too  close  a  confinement.  The  vacation,  I  suppose,  will 
soon  commence,  which  will  be  a  relaxation  to  your 
mind,  and  to  which  I  look  forward  with  pleasure,  under 
a  hope  that  I  may  once  more  enjoy  your  agreeable  con- 
verse. I  have  just  time  (as  my  friend  waits,)  to  inform 
you  that  I  am  no  longer  a  member  of  the  Ciceronian 
Society.  I  found  its  business  to  interfere  with  my 
studies  so  much  as  to  oblige  me  to  resign  my  seat,  and 
request  the  privileges  of  an  honorary  member.  Do 
write  soon,  and  believe  me  to  be,  in  haste,  your  sincere 

friend, 

James  Milnor.' 

It  is  worthy  of  note,  that  this  advocate  for 
the  law,  himself,  in  middle  age,  became  the 
apologist  for  a  holier  cause ;  and  that  thus 
these  companions  in  boyhood,  widely  separated, 


44  MEMOIROF 

met  again,  after  many  years,  in  the  relation  of 
bishop  and  pastor,  in  a  city  to  which  both  were 
then  strangers,  and  in  a  sacred  profession,  to 
which,  at  that  time,  the  attention  of  neither  was 
turned.  The  last  notice  of  the  Ciceronian  So- 
ciety appears  in  a  letter  of  Mr.  Hobart  in  1794, 
tendering  his  resignation  as  a  member,  on  the 
ground  of  his  second  removal  to  Princeton,  and 
concluding  with  these  words  :  *  Be  assured  that 
my  conviction  of  the  improvement  to  be  de- 
rived from  the  Society  remains  as  strong  as 
ever,  and  that  for  those  members  with  whom  I 
have  a  personal  acquaintance,  I  feel  that  regard 
which  a  knowledge  of  their  merit  will  ever 
excite.' 

After  three  years  spent  in  a  University  whose 
course  of  study  was  at  that  time  far  from 
answering  its  lofty  title,  he  was  removed  for  his 
further  improvement  to  Princeton,  New-Jersey 
—  entering  upon  the  junior,  or  third  year  in 
advance.  Princeton  College,  or  more  properly 
Nassau  Hall,  was  then  at  the  height  of  its  po- 
pularity, perhaps  too  of  its  strength  ;  for  its 
president  was  '  the  learned  and  able  Wither- 
spoon,'  its  vice-president  *  the  accomplished 
and  eloquent  Stanhope  Smith.'  Of  both  these 
gentlemen  young  Hobart  conciliated  the  esteem; 
with  the  latter  he  contracted  an  intimate  and 
enduring  friendship. 


BISHOP     HOBART.  45 

Of  the  two  years  here  spent  in  academic 
retirement,  records  remain  more  full  than 
generally  survive  the  lapse  of  so  many  years  : 
they  show  this  period  of  his  life  to  have  been 
equally  happy  and  improving.  At  the  end  of 
the  first  year  he  thus  writes  :  *  Could  I  have 
enjoyed  the  company  of  my  dear  relations,  no 
one  year  of  my  life,  I  think  I  can  say,  has 
passed  so  agreeably,  and  I  hope  I  may  add, 
with  so  much  benefit.  Another  will,  I  trust, 
pass  away  with  as  much  pleasure,  and  as  much 
improvement ;  and  then  my  destination  in  life 
must  be  fixed.  Whatever  that  may  be,  in 
whatever  course  of  action  I  may  be  engaged,  I 
shall  strive  to  merit  the  esteem  of  mv  friends, 
and  above  all,  the  approbation  of  my  con- 
science, which  I  think  I  may  say  is  not  as  yet 
stained  with  any  voluntary  offences  ;  and  I 
shall  always  feel  most  grateful  to  my  dear  rela- 
tions for  the  means  of  improvement  which  I 
now  enjoy.'  An  extract  from  one  of  his  last 
letters  will  serve  to  show  that  he  was  not  dis- 
appointed in  this  anticipation.  *  The  time 
draws  near,'  says  he,  '  when  I  shall  leave  col- 
lege ;  and  though  the  thought  of  being  again 
united  to  my  friends,  affords  me  the  greatest 
pleasure,  yet  the  idea  of  leaving  a  place  where 
I  have  spent  so  many  happy  hours,  of  dissolving 
connections,  which  next  to  the  ties  of  nature 


46  MEMOIROF 

are  the  most  dear,  cannot  hut  considerahly 
alloy  the  happiness  I  hope.  I  feel,  however, 
that  a  life  of  study  and  retirement  is  not  a  life 
of  usefulness,  and  although  my  happiest  days 
may  be  past,  I  look  forward  with  trust  that  my 
most  useful  ones  are  yet  to  come.' 

His  own  letters,  during  this  period,  are  ne- 
cessarily dispersed ;  hut  those  addressed  to  him 
seem  to  have  been  all  carefully  preserved  ;  the 
recollections,  too,  of  the  surviving  companions 
of  his  studies,  though  few  in  number,  are  yet 
vivid  and  sufficiently  minute. 

The  general  results  are  well  summed  up  by 
his  early  biographer.  '  HabitiKil  cheerfulness, 
great  ardor  and  success  in  study,  social  habits, 
winning  manners,  and  a  peaceful  disposition — 
a  well-balanced  mind,  prompt  and  able  elocu- 
tion, native  talent,  persevering  industry,  and 
pure  morals,  compose  the  wreath  of  praise 
awarded  to  him  when  on  classic  ground.* 
But  to  give  the  language  of  actual  recollection, 
'  He  was  distinguished,'  says  Dr.  Otto,  *  for  an 
unusual  gayety  of  temper,  without  the  least 
mixture  of  levity  or  thoughtlessness.  His  voice 
was  good,  and  his  ear  musical  ;  and  he  used 
occasionally,  for  his  own  and  our  amusement, 
to  sing  early  in  the  morning  before  we  arose. 

*  '  Memorial,'  p.  20. 


BISHOP     HOB  ART.  47 

His  temperament  was  ardent,  and  he  studied 
with  diligence,  both  from  a  love  of  useful  know- 
ledge, and  a  laudable  ambition  to  be  honorably 
distinguished.       The    untiring    zeal  which    he 
displayed  so  conspicuously  in  after-life,  in  the 
performance  of  whatever  he  deemed  his  duty, 
was  a  part  of  his  natural  character,  and  mani- 
fested itself  at  college.     His  habits  were  very 
social,  and  during  those  hours  which  he  de- 
voted  to   recreation,   he   mixed   freely  in  the 
company  of  the  most  distinguished   students, 
being  most  intimate,  as  is  usual,  with  the  mem- 
bers  of  the   literary  society  to  which   he  be- 
longed.    But  from  the  great  urbanity  of  his 
manners,  and  his  high  standing,  he  was  much 
respected  by  all.     I  do  not  recollect  that  dur- 
ing the  whole  time  we  resided  together,  any 
incident  occurred  which  suspended  for  a  mo- 
ment our  friendly  feelings  toward  each  other. 
He  loved  peace  and  harmony,   and  zealously 
exercised  his  powerful  influence  in  composing 
the   differences   that    occasionally  take    place 
where  many  youths  live  together.     His  strong 
sense  of  propriety,  and  his   inflexible  justice, 
gave    him    great  weight    on    these    occasions. 
There  was  no  one  branch  of  study,  as  far  as  my 
memory  serves  me,  that  especially  engaged  his 
attention,   or  to  which   he   showed  a  decided 
preference.     He  was  well  acquainted  with  the 


48  MEMOIROF 

whole  course  prescribed.  His  mind  was  vigor- 
ous and  well  balanced,  none  of  the  faculties 
being  in  an  undue  proportion.' 

Among  the  anticipations  then  excited,  and 
now  remembered  of  him,  was  an  observation 
of  Dr.  Benjamin  Rush,  on  seeing  the  light 
always  burning  in  his  room,  —  '  Ah  !  that 
Johnny  Hobart  will  one  day  be  a  great  man  ! ' 

A  few  extracts  from  his  mother's  letters  may 
serve  to  throw  light  on  her  character,  as  well 
as  the  domestic  circumstances  of  the  family. 
The  following  are  taken  from  a  bundle  care- 
fully preserved  and  endorsed  by  the  affectionate 
child  to  whom  they  were  addressed.  They 
give  the  natural  picture  of  the  watchful,  timid 
tenderness  of  a  solitary  mother.  Had  we  his 
in  return,  we  should  be  enabled  better  to  judge 
how  well  that  tenderness  was  merited.  At  the 
period  of  his  going  to  Princeton,  she  was 
residing,  at  least  temporarily,  with  her  married 
daughter  at  Abingdon,  (Pennsylvania,)  whence 
she  thus  writes  her  son  on  the  subject  of  his 
removal : 

'I  am  pleased  with  your  dutiful  and  affectionate 
letter ;  from  that  and  your  sister's,  the  reasons  for  your 
desiring  to  go  to  Princeton  seem  so  well-founded,  and 
the  advantage  that  it  may  be  to  you  appears  so  great, 
that  I  cannot  refuse  my  consent.  I  never  doubted  the 
goodness  of  your  own  heart — my  fears  have  been,  lest 


BISHOP     HOBART.  49 

the  influence  of  bad  example  should  overcome  your 
own  good  resolutions  ;  but  I  have  so  much  confidence 
in  you,  my  dear  John,  that  I  shall  rely  on  your  assur- 
ance for  the  rectitude  of  your  conduct  in  every  respect. 
I  hope  all  I  shall  have  to  regret  will  be,  that  I  have  not 
the  company  of  my  dear  child  ;  but  I  find  I  must  be 
deprived  of  that  too  much,  whether  you  go  from  home 
or  not.  I  want  very  much  to  be  with  you,  my  dear 
son,  but  still  I  have  a  full  hope  and  confidence  that 
your  love  of  goodness,  and  your  love  of  me,  will  pre- 
serve you  from  the  influence  of  bad  example  ;  my  heart 
is  full  of  tenderness,  but  I  cannot  write  what  I  feel. 
That  Providence  may  make  you  his  peculiar  care,  and 
overrule  all  your  actions,  is  the  earnest  prayer  of,  my 
dear  John,  your  aflectionate  mother, 

H.  HoBART.' 

Soon  after  his  establishment,  she  writes  him 
from  Philadelphia  as  follows  : 

'  I  am  happy  to  hear,  my  dear  John,  that  you  got 
safe  to  Princeton,  and  that  you  are  so  agreeably  situated 
there  ;  may  you  and  I  never  have  reason  to  regret  that 
you  went.  It  is  now  very  inconvenient  for  your  brother 
to  spare  the  money  you  write  for,  but  he  will  send 
it  if  he  possibly  can,  as  he  would  rather  submit  to 
difficulties  himself,  than  subject  you  to  them.  You 
will  remember,  my  dear,  to  keep  a  daily  account  of 
your  expenses  ;  you  know  the  necessity  there  is  for 
frugality,  so  that  I  shall  not  urge  you  on  that  subject. 
It  will  contribute  to  your  happiness  to  hear  that  we  do 
rery  w^ell  without  you  ;  we  miss  you  very  much  to  be 
sure,  but  the  hope  that  it  will  prove  best  for  you  that 
we  should  be  separated  for  a  time,  will  help  us  to  bear 

3 


50  MEMOIROF 

it  with  what  cheerfulness  we  can.  You  may  be  assured 
you  have  the  best  wishes,  and  the  most  tender  affections, 
of  yours, 

H.  HoBART.' 


'  Philadelphia,  December  18th,  1791. 
From  my  dear  John's  letters  of  the  7th  and   14th 
instant,  I  have  the  pleasure  of  finding  you  are  well, 
and  continue  still  satisfied  with  your  situation.     I  am 
almost  afraid  to  tell  you  how  much  I  wish  to  see  you 
at  Christmas,  for    several  reasons.     One  is,  lest  your 
absence  from  college  should  interfere  with  your  studies, 
and  be  a  disadvantage  to  you  on  that  account.    Another 
is,  the  probability  that  the  weather  will  be  very  cold, 
and  travelling  very  disagreeable  at  that  time,  and  my 
exceeding  apprehension  of  danger  in  crossing  the  ferry, 
which  you  must  do  twice  if  you  come  and  return  again  ; 
we  ought  not  to  wish,  my  dear  John,  to  gratify  our 
inclinations  at  the  expense  of  discretion.     If  you  find  it 
will  be  in  any  way  detrimental  to  leave  your  studies, 
don't  do  it — if  there  is  any  appearance  of  danger,  don't 
risk  it ;  but  in  either  of  these  cases  submit  to  prudence. 
If  circumstances  should  prove  favorable  I  shall  be  most 
happy  to  see  you,  though  I  shall  be  again  uneasy  that 
you  will  have  the  same  risk  to  run  when  you  return. 
I  enclose  you  a  five  dollar  note,  though  I  must  again 
remind  you  of  the  absolute  necessity  there  is  to  avoid 
every  unnecessary  expense,  and  of  my  fears  for  you  in 
crossing  the  ferry,  which  I  beg  you  will  not  attempt,  if 
the  weather  should  be  boisterous,  or  any  appearance  of 
danger  from  ice,  or  any  other  unfavorable  circumstance. 
Should  you  come  as  far  as  the  ferry,  and  find  it  not 
quite  safe  to  cross  it,  do  not  venture,  but  wait  or  return, 


BISHOPHOBART.  51 

rather  than  risk  any  danger ;  if  you  find  it  will  be 
advisable  and  safe  for  you  to  come,  let  me  know  in 
time,  that  I  may  expect  you.  And  may  you  ask  and 
receive  the  blessing  and  protection  of  that  Providence 
who  alone  can  preserve  us  from  dangers  of  every  kind. 
That  he  may  make  you  his  peculiar  care,  prays  your 
tenderly  affectionate  parent, 

Hannah  Hobart.' 

'  Philadelphia,  llth  January,  1792. 

I  have  received  my  dear  John's  welcome  letter  of  the 
10th  instant.  I  am  always  happy  to  hear  from  you, 
but  would  not  wish  to  purchase  that  satisfaction  at  the 
expense  of  your  studies ;  whenever  you  can  write 
without  making  that  sacrifice,  you  may  be  sure  I  shall 
have  pleasure  in  hearing  from  you,  and  will  endeavor 
to  make  myself  easy  when  you  do  not.  I  am  perfectly 
satisfied,  my  dear  John,  with  the  assurances  contained 
in  your  letter,  and  would  wish  you  to  believe  that  I 
have  the  fullest  confidence  in  the  rectitude  of  your 
heart,  and  the  propriety  of  your  conduct,  and  am  certain 
it  will  be  owing  to  mistake  or  inattention,  if  you  do  noi 
always  do  right.  I  would  remind  you,  my  dear  John, 
to  be  careful  of  your  eyes ;  they  are  of  more  value  than 
you  can  conceive  while  you  are  blessed  with  the  enjoy- 
ment of  them.  I  am  glad  to  find  you  are  well,  and 
continue  pleased  with  your  situation.  I  have  too  much 
confidence  in  the  goodness  of  your  principles,  as  well 
as  understanding,  to  imagine  you  could  have  pleasure 
in  any  situation  or  engagements  that  would  not  afford 
satisfaction  on  reflection,  as  well  as  in  present  enjoy- 
ment. I  need  not  say  how  much  I  wish  to  see  you, 
and  am  happy  to  think  it  will  not  be  long  first.     Let 


52  M  E  M  0  1  R     0  F 

me  know  how  much  money  you  •vvill  -want,  and 
when.  I  write  in  haste,  but  am  ever  my  dear  John's 
afleetionate 

H.  KOBART.' 

'  Thursday,  QOtk  September,  1792. 
I  was  sorry  I  had  not  a  letter  ready  for  you,  my  dear 
John,  when  Mr.  Otto  called,  as  it  would  have  been  so 
convenient  to  have  sent  it  by  him ;    and  I  have  now 
scarce  time  more  than  to  inform  you,  that  I  enclose  a 
ten  dollar  note,  and  to  tell  you  that  your  letter  was 
exceedingly  pleasing  to  me.  as  by  it  I  find  you  have 
passed  your  time  agreeably,  and  I  have  no  doubt  profit- 
ably.    Indeed,  my  dear  John,  I  cannot  help  anticipating 
the  happiness  I  expect  to  experience  from  your  future 
conduct,  as  I  already  have  from  your  past ;  relying  on 
the  rectitude  of  your  heart,  and  the  kindness  of  that 
Providence  who  will,  I  trust,  continue  to  give  you  every 
good  disposition;  and  to  bless  every  laudable  endeavor, 
if  you  fail  not  humbly  to  seek  it  from  him.     It  is  a 
great  satisfaction  to  me  to  find  your  situation  is  still 
agreeable  to  you,  and  I  hope  it  will  continue  to  be  so,  as 
a  knowledge  of  your  happiness  always  contributes  to 
mine.     But,  my  dear  John,  you  do  not  tell  me  you  are 
well :  I  want  to  know  if  you  have  any  cough,  or  have 
been  at  any  time  sick  since  you  left  home  :  if  you  are, 
do  not  keep  the  knowledge  of  it  from  me.     I  would 
earnestly  beseech  you  to  have  a  regard  to  your  health. 
I  know  your  desire  to  acquire  knowledge  is  great,  and  it 
is  commendable :  but  I  would  wish  you  to  think  it  of  at 
least  as  much  consequence  to  preserve  health,  as  to 
improve  your  mind,  since  without  health  you  can  do 
nothing,  so  that  the  preservation  of  that  should  be  your 
first,  though  not  your  only  care. 


BISHOP      II  0  B  A  R  T.  53 

Y^our  brothers  and  sisters  and  little  nephews  are  all 
well  and  with  the  hope  of  seeing  you  soon,  join  in 
much  love  to  you,  with,  my  dear  John,  your  affectionate 

H.    HOBART.' 

A  chance  letter  of  the  son's  has  been  pre- 
served, which,  though  without  date,  seems  to 
be  in  answer  to  this  :  he  says, 

'  Tuesday  Evening. 
I  have  been  some  time  waiting  to  write  to  you  by 
G.  Bullock ;  but  as  his  going  seems  very  uncertain,  I 
now  write  by  post,  to  ease  you  of  the  anxiety  I  fear 
you  feel  in  not  hearing  from  me.  I  wish,  my  dear 
Mamma,  you  Avould  not  be  so  apprehensive  that  I  shall 
injure  my  health  by  application ;  you  may  depend 
upon  it,  the  preservation  of  that  shall  always  be  a 
primary  concern,  and  that  study  shall  never  injure  it. 
As  my  dear  Mamma's  concern  is  an  evidence  of  her 
affection  for  her  son,  so  I  assure  her  that  son's  heart  is 
too  full  to  express  as  it  ought,  how  much  he  is  indebted 
to  her ;  but  it  would  add  greatly  to  my  happiness,  if  I 
knew  you  were  not  oppressed  with  unnecessary  fears. 
I  am  not  now  troubled  with  a  cough,  but  am  as  hearty 
as  I  have  been  at  any  time  since  I  came  here.  The 
situation  is  so  healthy,  that  it  is  very  rarely  the  students 
have  any  complaints. 

Your  very  affectionate  son, 

J.  H.  H." 

'  Wednesday  Evening,  January  2,  1793. 
I  am  happy,  my  dear  .John,  to  hear  you  are  well, 
and  am  much  pleased  with  the  account  your  sister  tells 
me  Mr.  Tatem  gives  of  your  exhibition  on  Monday 


54  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

evening.  I  have  just  got  your  speech  from  your 
sister,  but  must  defer  reading  it  till  to-morrow.  I  am 
so  much  engaged  with  your  sister  Polly,  that  I  can 
scarce  take  time  to  write  a  line,  or  I  should  before  now 
have  told  you  I  was  highly  gratified  in  hearing  that 
Dr.  Smith,  when  he  was  last  in  Philadelphia,  spoke  of 
you  in  terms  of  the  highest  commendation,  as  to  your 
disposition,  capacity,  and  conduct.  I  hope,  my  dear 
son,  you  will  always  behave  so  as  to  merit  (and  I  doubt 
it  not)  the  approbation  of  all  whose  good  opinion  you 
ought  to  desire  to  have.  I  enclose  a  five  dollar  note, 
and  assure  my  dear  boy,  that  so  far  from  feeling 
reluctance  at  sending  you  necessary  supplies,  I  do  it 
with  the  utmost  cheerfulness  when  in  my  power, 
because  I  have  confidence  in  your  prudent  disposal  of 
it,  and  hope  the  end  will  be  your  advantage  and 
improvement.  Your  brother  has  given  up  business  in 
town,  and  removed  to  Pottsgrove.  I  heard  this  after- 
noon they  were  all  well. 

Your  affectionate  mother, 

H.    HOBART.' 

If  his  mother's  affection  was  thus  fearful 
under  ordinary  circumstances,  it  may  easily  be 
imagined  how  painful  was  the  separation  during 
the  ravages  of  the  yellow  fever,  which  hroke 
out  in  the  summer  of  this  year,  (1793.)  Her 
letters  were  almost  daily,  and  filled  with  in- 
junctions of  care,  and  caution,  and  preventive 
remedies. 

On  the  close  of  his  final  examinations  in  the 
summer  of  this  fatal  year,  he  had  proceeded  to 


E  I  S  11  0  P     H  0  B  AR  T.  55 

pay  a  long-promised  visit  to  a  dear  college 
friend  at  Jamaica,  Long-Island.  While  there, 
the  fever  broke  out  with  violence  in  Philadel- 
phia ;  and  so  gfeat  was  the  alarm,  that  to  avoid 
the  danger  arising  from  public  travel,  his  friend 
himself  took  him  back  to  Princeton  in  a  private 
conveyance,  and  through  by-roads. 

It  was  now  his  turn  to  be  anxious  for  his 
mother's  safety ;  he  thus  writes  from  Jamaica : 

'  My  dear  Mamma's  two  letters  have  filled  me  Avitli 
more  anxiety  than  I  can  express.  I  am  very  sure  you 
cannot  be  safe  in  the  city,  and  if  you  are  so  anxious  I 
should  not  come  there,  I  wish  you  would  be  equally 
concerned  on  your  own  account.  I  cannot  be  easy  any 
where,  my  dear  Mamma,  till  you  are  out  of  the  city,  as 
long  as  the  disease  continues.  Oh,  my  dear  Mother,  if 
you  knew  how  anxious  I  am,  I  am  sure  you  would  not 
continue  in  town.  I  would  therefore  beg  and  entreat 
you  to  leave  the  city.  I  cannot  be  convinced  you  are 
safe  there.  I  should  suppose  you  might  go  either  to 
Frankfort  or  to  Pottsgrove,  but  in  the  city  I  hope  you 
will  not  continue.  I  have  felt  very  much  for  you  to- 
day, the  weather  has  been  unusually  warm.  I  wish, 
my  dear  Mamma,  you  would  go  into  the  country.  I 
shall  anxiously  wait  for  a  letter.  With  a  great  deal  of 
love  and  anxiety,  I  remain  your  sincerely  affectionate, 

J.    H.    HOBART. 

Friday  Evening.* 

Her  removal  to  Frankfort,  which  imme- 
diately took  place,  was  not,  however,  sufficient 
to  quiet  his  fears.     His  next  is  as  follows  : 


56  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

'  Princeton,  September  2bth,  1793. 

1  feel  daily  more  and  more  anxiety  for  your  safety, 
my  dear  Mamma,  and  that  of  my  brother  and  sisters, 
who  still  continue  within  the  reach  of  this  alarming 
fever.  The  accounts  we  have  from  Philadelphia  are 
extremely  distressing,  and  represent  the  fever  as  con- 
tinuing to  rage  with  the  greatest  fury,  and  carrying  off 
daily  a  great  number  of  the  citizens.  But  what  adds 
to  my  anxiety  and  distress  is,  that  you  are  by  no  means 
yet  safe  from  the  contagion.  Mr.  Tennent,  one  of  our 
trustees,  has  mentioned  here  that  three  or  four  persons 
have  died  of  the  disorder  in  the  neighborhood  of  Abing- 
don, which  is  farther  from  the  city  than  Frankfort.  I 
wish  very  much,  if  it  were  possible,  that  you  would  all 
move  to  Pottsgrove,  where  you  would  be  more  secure 
from  danger.  Were  you  there,  I  should  be  much  less 
anxious  —  I  should  not  be  near  so  much  distressed.  I 
have  never  been  more  distracted  with  doubt  and 
anxiety  than  to-day.  I  am  extremely  anxious  to  be 
with  you,  and  my  dear  Robert  and  his  family.  Oh  how 
easy  I  should  feel,  if  you  were  all  out  of  the  reach  of 
danger.  Skinner  has  returned.  I  do  not  know  that  I 
have  ever  suffered  so  much  as  in  parting  from  him.  I 
knew  he  was  very  dear  to  me,  but  I  did  not  know  how 
dear  till  he  left  me.  With  heartfelt  love  and  affection 
for  my  dear  Mamma,  I  remain  her  dutiful  son, 

John  H.  Hobart. 

P.  S.  We  have  received  degrees  privately.' 

'  Princeton,  Sept.  28.     Saturday  Evening. 
My  dear  Sister, 

I  wrote  to  mamma  by  Wednesday's,  Thursday's, 
and  Friday's  post.    I  am  in  continual  anxiety  not  only 


BISHOPHOBART.  57 

for  your  safety,  but  for  our  relations  who  still  remain 
in  the  city.  I  hope,  my  dear  sister,  that  you  will  not 
venture  into  town  with  Mr.  Smith,  and  I  wish  you 
could  persuade  him  to  leave  the  business  of  the  bank, 
when  he  cannot  attend  to  it  but  with  such  imminent 
hazard.  I  dare  not  think  of  the  consequences  that 
may  follow  his  so  frequently  going  into  the  city. 
Mamma  informs  me  that  she  is  well ;  indeed  it  is  my 
chief  consolation.  Neglectful  as  I  may  be  in  acknow- 
ledging the  common  mercies  of  Providence,  such  a  dis- 
tinguished instance  of  his  goodness  in  the  preservation 
of  those  who  are  most  dear  to  me  in  this  time  of  dan- 
ger, awakens  in  my  heart  the  liveliest  gratitude.  And 
while  those  who  lament  the  loss  of  friends  must  take 
warning  from  the  solemn  dispensation,  it  ought  to 
operate  no  less  forcibly  on  those  who  have  reason  to 
acknowledge  its  goodness  in  not  having  such  loss  to 
lament. 

My  dear  friend  Skinner  left  me  on  Thursday  last, 
depriving  me  of  my  chief  source  of  happiness  while 
absent  from  you  all.  I  wish  it  were  possible  for  us  to 
be  always  together,  and  I  must  indulge  in  the  pleasing 
anticipation  that  such  may  be  the  case.  I  wish,  my 
dear  sister,  that  you  only  knew  him,  and  then  you 
would  not  wonder,  as  you  now  may,  at  the  warmth  of 
my  attachment  to  him. 

Your  affectionate  brother, 

John  H.  Hobart.' 

A.t  this  season  of  wide-spread  alarm,  the 
fears  of  those  separated  were  mutual.  His 
mother's  letter,  a  few  days  previous,  is  as 
follows  : 

3* 


58  M  E  M  0  I  R     0  F 

'  Frankfort,  2ith  September,  1793. 
I  wrote  to  you,  my  dear  John,  last  Thursday  ;  since 
then,  I  have  received  yours  from  Jamaica,  of  the  17th. 
I  expect  you  are  in  Princeton  before  now,  and  know  it 
will  give  you  pleasure  to  hear  that  we  are  all  well  at 
Frankfort.  I  don't  find  that  the  disorder  is  abated  in 
the  city,  but  cannot  hear  that  it  is  any  where  in  this 
neighborhood,  or  has  been.  I  am  impatiently  expect- 
ing to  hear  from  you,  and  hope  there  are  letters  now 
at  the  post-office ;  but  it  is  seldom  we  can  get  them  till 
the  day  after  they  are  there.  I  am  very  glad  you  wrote 
to  Mr.  Smith  ;  his  kindness  to  us  all,  and  attention 
to  you,  called  for  a  return,  and  I  know  it  gave 
him  a  great  deal  of  pleasure,  as  it  did  also  your  sister. 
Wherever  you  travel,  I  wish  you  to  use  every  prudent 
precaution  in  your  power  ;  but  do  not  let  apprehension 
affect  your  spirits,  but  look  to  that  Providence  who  is 
able,  and,  I  trust,  will  preserve  you  from  every  danger. 
I  would  have  you  carry  camphor  about  you,  and  your 
handkerchief  wet  with  vinegar :  if  you  could  have  a 
little  vial  of  spirits  of  camphor,  and  sometimes  take  a 
drop  or  two  in  your  mouth,  and  wet  your  handkerchief 
as  often  as  you  can  with  vinegar,  unless  you  can  con- 
veniently carry  that  also  about  you. 

I  would  not  wish  you,  my  dear  John,  to  distress 
yourself  so  much  with  apprehensions  for  our  safety  ; 
we  cannot  insure  it,  in  truth,  any  where  ;  but  we  will 
hope  the  best,  and  trust  that  a  kind  Providence,  who 
has  in  so  many  instances  dispensed  his  favors  to  us, 
will  continue  to  preserve  you,  as  well  as  us,  from  every 
danger.  We  cannot,  indeed,  my  dear  son,  be  grateful 
enough  to  a  heavenly  Father  who  has  hitherto  so  parti- 
cularly favored  us  ;  but  I  hope  we  may  not  be  wholly 


BISHOPHOBART.  59 

insensible  of  the  numberless  instances  of  his  care  and 
protection.  That  the  Almighty  may  still  continue  his 
goodness  to  us  all,  and  particularly  guard  and  preserve 
my  dear  John  from  all  danger,  is  the  sincere  prayer  of 
his  affectionate  parent, 

Hannah  Hobart. 

P.  S.  Do  take  care  and  guard  yourself  against  taking 
cold  when  you  travel;  be  sure  you  take  your  surtout, 
even  if  it  is  not  cold,  it  will  keep  you  warm  and  dry, 
and  I  hope  it  will  not  be  long  before  you  can  get  a  new 
one.  I  fear,  my  dear  John,  you  make  yourself  too 
uneasy  on  account  of  the  danger  you  think  we  are 
in.  We  are  all  well  yet,  and  have  no  reason  to  think 
we  are  more  unsafe  now  than  we  have  been.  It  is 
proper,  to  be  sure,  to  use  every  prudent  precaution,  but 
I  hope  all  our  fears  are  not  well  founded.  In  travelling, 
be  careful  you  do  not  go  to  any  house  where  the 
disorder  is  or  has  been,  and  keep  a  prudent  distance 
from  persons  that  you  do  not  know. 

I  cannot  help  telling  you,  my  dear  John,  how  highly 
I  was  gratified  in  hearing  you  have  established  such  a 
character  at  college.  Dr.  Smith  spoke  of  you  to  Mr. 
Smith,  and  to  your  sister,  in  terms  of  the  highest  com- 
mendation ;  he  could  not  have  said  more  in  praise  of 
any  one,  and  you  may  be  sure  I  do  not  doubt  your 
deserving  it. 

Monday  Morning.'' 

After  this  letter,  the  reader  will  not  be  sur- 
prised to  learn,  that  maternal  anxiety  provided 
for  him  the  means  of  avoiding  all  risk  from 
public    stages,    and   that   his   brother-in-law's 


60  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

chaise  and  clerk  were  soon  after  despatched 
to  Princeton  for  him,  bringing  him  in  safety  to 
his  anxious  mother,  at  her  temporary  home  in 
Frankfort.  But  this  is  anticipating  the  con- 
clusion of  a  two  years'  residence,  which 
deserves  a  fuller  record. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Residence  at  College — Whig  and  Clio  Societies — Contest  for  College 
Honors — Character — Letters — Thoughts  cf  the  Ministry. 

It  were  not  easy  to  find  a  more  pleasing 
picture  of  college  life,  than  is  exhibited  in  his 
own  and  his  companions'  boyish  letters  already 
alluded  to  ;  young  Hobart's  especially,  are  full 
of  gayety  of  heart,  and  warm,  generous  emo- 
tions. Life  was  in  its  spring,  and  the  world 
was  all  bright  around  him,  but  more  especially 
that  little  world  in  which  he  then  dwelt. 
Princeton  was  an  Athens  to  him,  and  its  groves 
as  those  of  Hecademus.  His  professors  were 
sages,  and  the  class  a  philosophic  band  of 
brothers.  Such  is  their  romantic  tone :  but 
still,  however  colored  by  an  ardent  fancy,  it 
must  assuredly  have  been  to  him  a  scene  of 
great  enjoyment,  and  no  less  improvement, 
and  speaks  much  for  the  talent  and  good  sense 


BISHOP     HO  BART.  61 

of  those  by  whom  the  college  was  at  that  time 
governed. 

Among  the  greatest  sources  to  him  of  both, 
was  the  academic  association  of  the  students, 
known  under  the  name  of  the  Whig  Society  ; 
which,  together  with  its  rival,  the  CliOy  still 
continues,  it  is  understood,  to  call  forth,  in 
zealous  competition,  the  best  talents  of  Nassau 
Hall.  It  may  be  concluded  he  would  not  be 
backward  in  joining  one  of  them.  One  of  his 
earliest  letters  says,  '  I  daily  experience  the 
advantages  of  my  situation  ;  and,  my  dear 
Mamma,  you  may  rest  assured  that  no  endea- 
vors of  mine  shall  be  wanting.  Within  these 
few  days,  I  have  entered  one  of  the  societies, 
and  am  confident  that  the  improvement  I  shall 
derive  from  it  will  nearly  equal  that  from  the 
college.' 

The  honors  and  prosperity  of  the  one  with 
which  he  connected  himself,  constitute  one  of 
his  most  favorite  themes,  while  the  zeal  and 
ardor  with  which  he  advocates  its  cause,  dis- 
play not  only  his  own  character,  but  the  influ- 
ence which  such  institutions  are  calculated  to 
exercise  over  the  excitable  mind  of  youth  ;  and, 
if  well  directed,  may  exercise  to  the  best  ends. 
With  young  Hobart,  the  impression  left  was 
never  effaced ;  and  in  after-life  he  not  only 
often  recurred  to  this  period  as  one  of  peculiar 


62  MEMOIROF 

happiness  and  profitable  labor,  but  in  the  char- 
acter of  trustee  of  another   college,  warmly 
urged  the  liberal  patronage  of  similar  societies 
of  the  students,  from  the  vivid  recollection  of 
the  benefits  he  had  himself  derived  from  them. 
In  none   probably  of  our  colleges  have  they 
operated  either  more  powerfully  or  more  bene- 
ficially than  in  the  one  with  which  he  was  now 
connected,    being  not    only   recognised,    but 
cherished   by  the    academic    authorities,    and 
their  literary  rivalry  excited  by  the  recognition 
of  membership   in  the   annual  distribution  of 
college  honors.     To  one  of  his  absent  com- 
panions, he  thus  writes  the  news  of  a  doubtful 
victory  :   '  The  examination  of  the  junior  class 
is  over  ;  the  honors  given  out  as  follows  :   How, 
(Whig,)  Latin  Salutatory  ;   Hutcheson,  (Clio,) 
English  Salutatory ;  Green,  (C.,)  Brown,  (W.,) 
Heister,  (C.,)  Kollock,  (C.,)  Elmendorf,  (C.,) 
Polhemus,  (C.,)  Intermediates.     The  superior- 
ity of  the  Whigs  would  have  been  greater,  if 
Ker,  one  of  the  first  in  the  class,  had  not  gone 
home  last  spring,  and  Keese,  another  valuable 
member,   been   sick ;    they  would   both   have 
received  very  high  honors  ;  but  even  as  it  is, 
the  Whigs  bear  off  the  palm  —  our  society  is 
confessedly  superior.'    If,  in  the  case  of  others, 
he  entered  with  such  warmth  into  its  interests, 
it    may   naturally   be    presumed    the    question 


BISHOPHCBART.  63 

became  more  exciting  when  he  found  himself 
held  up  as  the  representative  of  their  strength. 
On  this  occasion,  the  contest  appears  to  have 
been  more  than  usually  animated. 

While  young  Hobart  stood  forth  by  acclama- 
tion as  the  champion  of  the  Whigs,  the  Clios 
were  represented  by  a  young  Virginian  of  the 
name  of  Bennet  Taylor  ;  no  unworthy  compe- 
titor, as  it  would  seem,  on  the  score  of  merit, 
and   certainly   one   of  equal   devotion    to    the 
honors  of  his  clan.     The  weighty  decision  of 
the  first  honor,  the  Latin  Salutatory,  long  hung 
in   suspense.       The    Senatus  Academicus  were 
understood   to  be   equally   divided  —  one-half 
voting  for  Hobart,  the  other  for  Taylor.     At 
the  head  of  the  first  stood  his  friend  the  vice- 
president,  whose  opinion  carried  great  weight  ; 
the  other  was  led  by  the  senior  professor.  Dr. 
Minto,  an  old  gentleman,  who  added  to  a  very 
sound  judgment,  great  zeal,  and  long   expe- 
rience.    Neither  party  being  willing  to   give 
way,  and  no  means,   as  it  would  seem,  being 
provided  for  the  decision  of  such  a  case,  they 
resorted,  it  is  said,  to  the  summary,  but  very 
unclassical  procedure  of  the  tossing  up  of  a 
coin.     As  it  rose  in  the  air,  Dr.  Smith,  as  if  to 
secure  the  omen,  cried  out,  '  Heads  for  Ho- 
bart,' and  heads  it  was.     The  result  may  be 
best  told  in  the  words  of  the  youthful  victor. 


64  MEMOIR     OF 

*  Mr.  Taylor  was  not  satisfied  with  this  decision 
of  the  faculty.  He  communicated  his  senti- 
ments to  Dr.  Smith,  and  endeavored  to  make 
it  appear  to  him  that  the  Latin  Salutatory, 
which  fell  to  my  lot,  would  place  me,  in  the 
opinion  of  the  audience,  ahove  him.  Dr.  Smith 
accordingly  mentioned  this  circumstance  to 
me,  and  intimated  that  as  I  could  speak  the 
Valedictory,  and  Mr.  Taylor  could  not,  he 
thought  it  would  he  an  act  of  candor  in  me  to 
relinquish  the  Salutatory,  and  take  the  other.' 
Had  it  been  any  hut  a  *  Clio  '  that  was  to  enjoy 
it,  young  Hobart's  heart  would  probably  have 
given  way  under  such  an  appeal ;  but  the 
'  Whig '  was  strong  within  him,  and  he  replied, 
in  the  spirit  of  all  conquerors,  '  I  will  not  give 
up  an  oration  which  has  fairly  and  honorably 
fallen  to  my  lot.' 

The  '  musa  pedestris '  of  Princeton  was,  it 
seems,  awakened  by  this  long-protracted  con- 
test ;  and  if  '  Clio '  descended,  as  the  letters 
charge  her  with  doing,  to  personal  invective, 
something  unquestionably  must  be  pardoned  to 
the  wounded  feelings  of  the  losing  party,  from 
whom  chance,  not  merit,  had  wrested  away  an 
equal  prize.  Alluding  to  these  attacks,  young 
Hobart  thus  concludes  his  letter  to  an  absent 

*  Whig  : '  '  Resentment  at  his  conduct  lives  not 
in  my  bosom  ;  I  remember  it  only  to  relate  it 


BISHOP     II  OBART.  65 

to  you,  and  would  have  it  go  no  further.'  But 
alas  !  for  the  vanity  of  human  amhition.  The 
Latin  Salutatory  thus  eagerly  sought  after  was 
never  deUvered.  In  the  summer  of  this  year, 
(1793,)  as  already  mentioned,  the  yellow  fever 
first  appeared  in  our  country,  breaking  out  in 
Philadelphia  a  short  time  previous  to  the  Com- 
mencement exercises  at  Princeton.  This  new 
enemy  drove  out  all  other  thoughts  than  those 
of  safety  from  the  minds  both  of  victors  and 
vanquished.  The  authorities  of  the  college 
took  the  alarm,  its  inmates  were  dispersed  — 
the  public  Commencement  in  fright  dispensed 
with,  and  the  academic  honor,  thus  long  sought 
and  earnestly  contended  for,  announced  but  to 
the  ears  of  a  trembling  few,  to  whom  it  con- 
veyed no  new  information,  and  whose  thoughts 
were  even  then  intent  on  other  things.  '  Sic 
transit  gloria  mundi.' 

But  this  narrative  awakens  another  reflec- 
tion. How  are  we  to  estimate  among  the 
means  of  a  sound  education,  the  academic 
competition  which  runs  into  such  eager  con- 
test ?  Is  it  favorable,  on  the  whole,  to  the 
formation  of  a  manly  character  1  Does  it  not, 
on  the  contrary,  tend  to  weaken  the  moral 
principle,  by  habituating  the  mind  to  stronger 
stimulants  than  those  of  mere  duty  ?  Does  it 
not  lead  to  the  substitution  of  the  spirit  of 


66  M  E  M  O  I  R     0  F 

party,  in  place  of  individual  reason  and  con- 
science ]  These  are  questions  certainly  not 
easily  answered,  and  deserve,  in  our  country 
more  particularly,  to  be  well  weighed,  since 
these  anticipated  results  go  to  cherish  the  very 
evils  which  threaten  to  work  our  political  ruin. 
But  setting  this  aside,  even  in  the  individual 
character,  may  not  the  sharpening  of  talent, 
and  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  be  too  dearly 
bought  with  the  formation  of  such  enfeebling 
propensities.  Their  influence,  however,  on 
the  mind  of  young  Hobart,  may  be  estimated 
lightly,  for  he  carried  with  him  through  life  a 
certain  individuality  of  character,  which  instead 
of  receiving  impressions  from  without,  was 
continually  stamping  them  on  all  around.  In 
the  features  of  his  mind  there  was  what  artists 
term  sharpness,  one  of  those  decisive  marks  by 
which  the  original,  in  painting,  is  always  to  be 
distinguished  from  the  copy,  and  the  clay 
model  from  the  plaster  cast.  No  man  that 
knew  Bishop  Hobart  at  any  period  of  his  life, 
but  must  have  seen  this  ;  that  his  character, 
whatever  estimate  might  be  formed  of  it,  was 
one  struck  off*  by  the  hand  of  nature,  having  in 
it  such  persuasive  force,  that  his  sentiments 
and  example  were  continually  taking  hold  on 
the  hearts  and  conduct  of  those  with  whom  he 
associated,  leaving  them  (few  but  will  acknow- 


BISHOP     HOB  ART.  67 

ledge)  wiser  and  better  than  he  found  them. 
Working  on  such  a  mind,  competition  may 
certainly  go  far  without  degenerating  either 
into  personal  rivalry,  or  party  attachment. 
This  is  pleasingly  indicated  in  a  letter  written 
soon  after  quitting  college,  to  one  whom  he 
left  in  it,  and  whom  he  addresses  by  the  familiar 
appellation  of  '  Dear  Tom.'  Alluding  to  his 
friend's  statement,  that  '  emulation  and  friend- 
ship eminently  prevail  among  the  members  of 
the  Society,'  he  thus  breaks  forth  :  '  O,  may 
these  long  continue  to  influence  them  !  What 
more  delightful  sight  can  be  presented  to  the 
eye,  than  a  band  of  youths,  whom  friendship 
and  a  noble  emulation  animate  ;  the  prize  they 
have  in  view  is  so  valued,  that  each  one  seeks 
it  with  persevering  ardor,  each  endeavoring  to 
outstrip  his  companion,  and  yet  each  one  giving 
his  companion  every  assistance  in  his  power. 
Their  friendship  is  as  strong  as  their  emula- 
tion, and  thus,  both  principles  being  equally 
powerful,  give  to  all  their  actions  the  ardor  of 
emulation,  in  union  with  mutual  love.'  An 
extract  from  a  letter  recently  received  from 
one  of  the  surviving  companions  of  his  studies, 
will  show  that  this  was  no  picture  of  fancy. 
*  The  interesting  qualities  of  Hobart's  heart 
and  head,  which  distinguished  him  so  much 
among   his  fellows,    can   never   be   forgotten. 


68  JI  E  31  O  I  R     O  F 

He  was  ambitious,  and  did  not  attempt  to  dis- 
guise it ;  but  it  was  that  kind  of  ambition 
which  every  student  must  possess,  if  he  aims 
at  eminence.  It  never  led  him  to  overlook  or 
under  estimate  the  merits  of  others  who  were 
competing  with  him.  On  the  contrary,  though 
bent  himself  on  reaching  the  goal,  he  mani- 
fested no  desire  of  travelling  in  advance  of  his 
friends,  but  was  pleased  when  they  progressed 
with  him  pari  passu,  and  manifested  distress  of 
mind  when  any  of  them  fell  visibly  behind  him. 
It  was  common  for  him  to  cheer  his  com- 
petitors when  they  seemed  to  flag,  and  to 
stimulate  them  to  more  action.  His  disposition 
was  marked  by  benevolence,  and  when  he  saw 
those  for  whom  he  had  a  respect  in  the  college 
classes  below  him,  disposed  to  indolence  or 
irregularity,  it  was  his  practice  to  visit  their 
rooms,  and  invite  them  to  his  own,  for  the 
purpose  of  bringing  them  within  the  influence 
of  his  conversation  and  example.  I  recollect 
the  instance  of  a  youth  from  Long-Island, 
who  was  reclaimed  from  idleness,  and  a  threat- 
ening habit  of  dissipation,  by  this  course.  The 
amiable  qualities  of  his  heart,  and  the  vigorous 
powers  of  his  mind,  can  never  be  efl'aced  from 
my  memory.  I  knew  his  thoughts  and  the 
motives  which  actuated  him,  and  it  was  my 
belief  there  was  none  whose  whole  course  of 


BISHOP     HOBART.  69 

conduct  furnished    a    more    unexceptionable 
model  for  imitation.* 

However  rare  this  character  of  ambition 
without  envy,  all  concur  that  young  Hobart 
exhibited  it ;  his  rivals  in  study  were  still  his 
brothers  in  affection,  and  the  attachments  he 
then  formed,  were  ardent  beyond  the  usual 
ardor  of  youthful  intimacies.  Now  this  is  a 
point  in  which  the  editor  is  aware  that  the  nar- 
rative he  is  about  to  give,  may  very  easily  be 
misinterpreted,  since  it  brings  before  the  reader 
such  a  succession  of  personal  attachments  on 
the  part  of  young  Hobart,  as  very  naturally  to 
excite  a  smile,  or  with  some,  perhaps,  even  a 
sneer,  at  their  number  and  romantic  fervor. 
But  this  would  be  doing  both  him  and  them 
great  injustice,  for  such  intimacies  are  proverbi- 
ally fleeting,  while  his  were  all  firm  and  enduring. 
Neither  the  bustling  cares  of  an  active  station, 
nor  even  the  dearer  connections  of  riper  years, 
were  able  to  withdraw  his  heart  from  the 
friends  of  his  boyhood.  To  the  very  last  he 
turned  to  them  with  the  feelings  of  almost 
childish  affection.  Separation  did  not  make  him 
forget  them  ;  sorrow  and  misfortune  but  en- 
deared them  ;  and  what  was  the  hardest  trial 
of  all,  the  errors  of  human  frailty  could  not 

*  J.  Burnet,  Esq.,  Cincinnati,  Ohio. 


70  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

tear  them  from  him.  Friendship  with  him  was 
a  living  plant  which  time  strengthens,  not  with- 
ers, and  in  the  hour  of  trial,  a  fruit-bearing 
plant,  hringing'  forth  actions  as  well  as  words. 
Many  persons  there  are  highly  social  without 
a  capacity  for  friendship.  An  easy  temper, 
and  a  languid  mind,  fit  them  for  ready  and 
changing  intimacies  ;  but  such  certainly  was 
not  the  temper  that  here  unfolded  itself.  There 
was  in  it,  on  the  contrary,  that  affectionateness 
of  nature,  which  once  rooted,  never  ceased  to 
cling.  Now  such  a  character  it  is  delightful  to 
meet  with,  and  to  contemplate  —  and  not  only 
delightful,  but  improving.  It  serves  to  give  us 
a  better  opinion  of  our  common  nature,  and 
not  only  so,  but  to  strengthen  our  confidence 
in  its  future  prospects ;  since,  to  see  early 
affections  thus  outliving  all  the  vicissitudes  of 
life,  and  rising  above  the  selfishness  of  years,  is 
no  small  proof  of  the  spirituality  of  that  nature  in 
which  those  affections  reside  :  it  is  the  triumph 
of  mind  over  matter,  and  opens  to  us  pleasing 
anticipations  of  what  those  affections  will  be 
in  a  purer  and  more  spiritual  state  of  being. 

But  from  whatever  source  these  intimacies 
sprang,  they  seem,  at  least,  to  have  been 
prudently  and  wisely  pursued,  with  a  view 
to  moral,  intellectual,  and  religious  improve- 
ment.    The  religious  tone  that  pervades  them 


B  I  S  H  O  P    H  0  B  A  R  T.  71 

on  the  part  of  young  Hobart  is  certainly  re- 
markable. Even  his  earliest  letters  to  his 
companions  breathe  this  spirit  —  sentiments 
not  merely  of  natural  piety,  but  of  Christian 
doctrine,  argued  and  urged  as  specific  motives 
to  duty,  and  the  intimacy  of  friendship  thus 
made  an  instrument  of  holiness  of  life. 

As  in  this  point  of  view  the  character  of 
Bishop  Hobart,  while  living,  was  greatly  misun- 
derstood, and  his  zeal  for  the  Church  over  which 
he  presided  turned  into  an  argument  against 
his  vital  piety,  it  is  due  to  his  memory,  now 
that  he  is  gone,  fully  to  illustrate  this  beautiful 
trait  in  his  life,  to  show  how,  even  from  his 
boyish  days,  his  friendship  was  felt  to  be  a 
blessing,  from  that  influence  which  he  was 
peculiarly  fitted  to  exert  over  his  intimates, 
being  always  steadily  directed  to  the  deepening 
and  strengthening  of  their  religious  principles. 
Nor  is  it  only  to  his  memory  that  this  exposition 
is  due  :  it  is  still  more  due  to  the  Christian 
public  ;  for  what  can  constitute  a  deeper  debt 
to  humanity  than  to  clear  away  from  a  great 
and  good  man's  character  the  prejudices  which 
weaken  the  force  of  his  example,  and  to  exhibit, 
in  intimate  union  from  earliest  youth,  those 
natural  talents  which  lead  to  power,  and  those 
Christian  graces  which  consecrate  their  influ- 
ence. 


72  MEMOIR     OF 

The  following  letters  are  taken  from  an 
ample  bundle  preserved  of  the  letters  of  his 
young  friends.  His  correspondent,  in  the  pre- 
sent case,  was  a  graduate  of  the  preceding  year, 
who  had  just  returned  to  his  home  in  the  South. 
However  youthful,  they  give  a  pleasing  picture 
of  college  life  and  intimacies. 

'Woodville,  3d  December,  1792. 
My  dear  Henry, 

By  this  time  you  must  have  met  with  a  good 
many  hard  knots  in  Helsham,  but  no  doubt  your  pene- 
trating genius  can  readily  pierce  the  most  crabbed.  I 
am  much  pleased  that  you  will  do  honor  to  our  old 
room,  and  still  more  anxious  that  you  should  do  honor 
to  yourself.  Only  maintain  your  usual  rank,  Avhich 
your  abilities  will  fully  enable,  and  your  laudable  ambi- 
tion will  prompt  you  to  do,  and  the  prize  is  yours. 
You  have  had  the  pleasure  of  spending  this  evening,  I 
suppose,  in  our  good  old  Society ;  a  pleasure  the  loss  of 
which  I  feel  very  sensibly.  Were  the  members  but  half 
as  sensible  of  the  advantages  that  may  be  derived  from 
that  institution  while  at  college,  as  they  will  be  after 
they  leave  it,  they  would  be  far  from  neglecting  their 
duties  in  it.  But  such  is  the  nature  of  man — insensible 
of  his  present  enjoyments,  and  complaining  of  ima- 
ginary evils.  I  have  no  news,  political,  moral,  or 
natural,  to  send  you,  except  that  I  have  set  up  till  after 
12  o'clock  writing  to  you  and  my  other  college  friends ; 
and  you  ought  to  consider  that  as  a  great  mark  of  my 
friendship  for  you  all,  as  you  know  very  well  it  is  not 
a  trifle  that  could  induce  me  to  do  sucli  a  thing.  It  is, 
however,  by  no  means  a  trifle  in  the  present  case,  but 


BISHOPHOBART.  73 

the  greatest  luxury,  not  having  as  yet  received  a  letter 
from  you,  which  would,  I  confess,  be  a  still  greater 
feast.  But  my  candle  is  almost  out,  and  I  shall  then  be 
obliged  to  go  to  bed.  In  the  mean  time,  I  remain  your 
friend, 

Alexander  White  the  3d. 

P.  S.   Do  not  forget  to  direct  your  letters,  Alexander 
White  the  3d.' 

'  Woodville,  AprU  1,  1793. 
My  dear  Friend, 

Your  favor  of  the  10th  March  I  received  with 
singular  pleasure  on  the  23d  of  the  same  month.  But 
I  hasten  to  another  subject,  in  which  I  feel  myself  much 
concerned.  It  gave  me  a  most  pleasing  sensation  to 
discover  that  you  were  to  represent  us  on  the  4th  July. 
I  say  us,  because  I  cannot  help  assuming  some  portion 
of  the  honor  acquired  by  the  exhibition  of  my  brother 
Whigs  ;  but  I  was  surprised  to  find  you  had  thoughts  of 
resigning  the  appointment,  which,  however,  I  hope  you 
will  not  do.  Let  me  entreat  you  in  the  name  of  a 
friend,  of  a  brother,  not  to  do  it.  That  you  would 
perform  the  duty  with  credit  to  yourself,  with  honor  to 
the  Society,  and  with  a  victory  over  your  competitor, 
you  must  be  fully  sensible ;  and  any  expression  of  it 
from  me  might  be  disagreeable.  But  further,  that  you 
would  disappoint  the  Society,  and  perhaps  materially 
injure  it  by  resigning,  is  also  evident.  I  hope,  therefore, 
if  you  have  not  some  very  particular  reasons,  unknown 
to  me,  you  will  cheerfully  execute  this  honorable  office. 
Your  class  having  gone  through  their  studies  so  rapidly, 
will  give  those  who  have  abilities  an  opportunity  to 
distinguish  themselves.  You  ought  to  appropriate  as 
4 


74  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

great  a  part  of  next  sessioQ  to  reviewing  as  possible, 
that  you  may  impress  the  knowledge  you  acquire  more 
strongly  on  the  memory,  and  appear  with  credit  at  the 
examination,  which  I  found  to  be  a  very  difficult  matter, 
if  not  an  impossibility.  Assuring  you  of  my  sincere 
wishes  for  your  happiness,  farewell. 

Alexander  White.' 

\Woodville,  SthMay,  1793. 
My  dear  Friend, 

Yours  of  23rd  ultimo  was  gratefully  received.  I 
heartily  thank  you  for  the  services  you  have  rendered 
me,  and  perfectly  approve  of  the  manner  in  which  you 
did  it.  I  hope  by  this  time  you  are  once  more  safely 
seated  at  Princeton,  where  you  can  calmly  enjoy  the 
sweets  of  study  and  retirement,  delicately  seasoned  with 
the  occasional  society  of  a  few  choice  friends.  Such  a 
situation,  I  am  inclined  to  believe,  is  the  summit  of 
earthly  happiness ;  at  any  rate,  I,  in  my  twenty  years' 
pilgrimage,  have  not  found  any  thing  superior.  But  I 
would  not,  by  these  observations,  lessen  the  confidence 
you  may  have  in  your  own  prospects  of  the  future, 
which  no  doubt  are  very  fair.  However  pleasing  a 
college  life  may  be,  I  presume  it  would  in  time  become 
wearisome,  and  the  sphere  too  narrow  and  confining 
for  an  active  and  enterprising  mind.  I  wish  I  could 
see  the  agitation  which  the  hope  of  obtaining,  and  the 
fear  of  not  obtaining  honors,  must  now  begin  to  excite 
in  your  class,  though  the  distinguishing  of  six  at  the 
last  examination  was  to  be  sure  a  very  good  omen  for 
them.  But  I  wonder  you  did  not  give  me  their  names 
If  you  consider  it  indelicate  to  mention  your  own,  you 
might  leave  a  blank  for  that,  and  insert  the  others.  I 
need  not  mention  with  how  much  joy  I  hear  of  the 


B  I  S  H  O  P     H  O  B  A  R  T.  73 

prosperity  of  our  dear  Society ;  you  say  it  has  the 
superiority  in  the  lower  classes,  and  it  surely  has  in 
yours.  I  expect  my  fellow  Whigs  will  make  an  honor- 
able appearance  at  the  next  Commencement.  On  you 
much  depends,  and  I  am  happy  to  hear  you  have  but 
one  rival,  and  that  he  is  called  so  only  by  the  Clios.  I 
perfectly  approve  of  your  not  taking  formally  into  con- 
sideration the  alterations  in  the  laws  proposed  by  the 
graduates.  It  has  always  been  my  opinion,  that  they, 
being  absent  from  the  college,  should  have  little  to  do 
with  legislation.  The  hall  no  doubt  needed  improve- 
ments, though  to  increase  the  library  is  in  my  mind  a 
more  desirable  object  than  to  add  elegance  to  the  room. 
Remember  me  to  my  friends  in  college,  particularly 
Skinner,  Terhane,  the  Wallaces,  Hunter,  and  Brown. 
Yours  sincerely, 

Alexander  White.' 

The  following,  though  not  in  answer,  is  yet 
the  earliest  preserved  of  his  own  college  letters. 

'  Frankfort,  November  12,  1793. 
My  dear  White, 

The  silence  which  has  succeeded  your  last  letter  of 
the  29th  July,  has  occasioned  me  considerable  uneasiness. 
This  anxiety  harassed  my  mind  for  some  time  previous 
to  the  examination,  though  the  attention  my  studies 
then  required  precluded  my  writing  to  you  till  that 
Avas  concluded  ;  and  the  necessary  preparation  for  the 
Commencement,  together  with  a  jaunt  to  my  friend 
Skinner  on  Long-Island,  delayed  the  answer  till  some 
time  in  September,  when  I  wrote  you  from  Jamaica. 
Since  that  period  I  have  postponed  writing,  from  the 


76  MEMOIROF 

daily  expectation  of  a  letter  from  you,  as  well  as  from 
the  calamitous  circumstance  which  has  deranged  alto- 
gether my  plans  and  wishes.  The  disorder  which 
marked  for  the  peculiar  object  of  its  ravages  our  unfor- 
tunate city,  prevented  the  stated  Commencement  at 
Princeton  from  being  held.  The  degrees  were  conferred 
privately  on  the  few  of  the  class  who  attended.  Imme- 
diately after,  I  came  to  this  place,  where  my  brother- 
in-law,  Mr.  Smith,  has  a  plantation,  on  which,  since 
the  commencement  of  the  disorder,  his  own  and  my 
mother's  families  have  resided.  The  improbability  that 
it  would  subside  time  enough  for  his  fall  business  in 
Philadelphia,  induced  him  to  open  a  store  in  this  place  ; 
and  as  I  engaged  to  go  through  an  apprenticeship  with 
nim,  I  have  been  employed  for  some  time  past  in 
attending  upon  it.  The  sudden  subsiding  of  the  dis- 
order renders  it  safe  for  the  citizens  now  to  return  to 
their  long-forsaken  habitations,  and  induces  him  to 
conclude  on  removing  to  town  the  latter  end  of  the 
week :  of  consequence  I  shall  shortly  again  revisit  my 
native  city ;  but  ah,  what  has  it  not  suffered  since  I 
last  saw  it.  Yet  in  that  trying  period,  when  the  ties  of 
nature  were  so  often  broken.  Heaven  raised  up  men 
who,  to  say  the  least  of  them,  were  ornaments  to  human 
nature.  Fearless  of  the  disorder,  they  administered  to 
the  wants  of  the  suffering  sick,  provided  for  the  unfor- 
tunate orphan,  performing  every  office  of  humanity  at 
the  hazard  of  their  lives.  Our  friends  Rhea  and  Otto 
are,  I  believe,  out  of  the  city,  and  well.  Early  has 
been  at  Princeton  since  the  Commencement.  Poor 
Wycoff  has,  I  understand,  fallen  a  victim  to  the  disor- 
der. Our  friends  at  Princeton  are  doing  well,  but 
owing  to  there  being  no  competitions^  the  Whigs  had  no 


BISHOPHOBART.  77 

opportunity  of  showing  themselves :  I  am  happy  to 
inform  you  they  bear  the  superiority  in  every  class. 
You  must  by  this  time  be  far  advanced  in  the  study  of 
the  law,  and  the  time  approaches  when  you  will  enter 
on  the  practice.  May  you,  my  friend,  arrive  at  those 
honors  in  public  life,  without  which  wealth  can  yield 
but  little  pleasure,  and  acquire  that  wealth  without 
which  the  honors  of  public  life  cannot  be  enjoyed. 
With  a  great  desire  to  hear  from  you,  and  with  much 
affection,  I  remain  your  sincere  friend, 

J.  H.  HOBART.' 

'  Woodville,  11th  November,  1793. 
My  dear  Henry, 

The  last  letter  I  received  from  you  was  dated  Ja- 
maica, September  10th,  which  I  would  have  answered 
long  ago,  but  for  the  little  probability  there  appeared  of 
a  letter  reaching  you.  I  now  hasten  to  congratulate 
you,  though  at  this  late  period,  on  having  attained  that 
distinction,  the  pleasing  effects  of  which  I  have  some 
knowledge  of.  It  reminds  me  of  what  I  once  said  to 
you,  that  reward  follows  merit,  though  sometimes 
"  pede  claudo."  I  am  very  sorry  you  had  not  an  oppor- 
tunity of  displaying  those  abilities  at  a  public  Com- 
mencement, which  I  am  confident  you  possess.  Conrad 
has  told  me  many  anecdotes  relating  to  college.  I 
recollect  perfectly  well  the  perturbation  that  was  in 
our  class  last  summer,  and  which  I  myself  did  not 
entirely  escape,  though  I  believe  I  felt  it  no  more  than 
some  who  wore  a  hypocritical  indifference.  I  am 
extremely  happy  to  find  that  the  Whigs  continue  to 
acquire  additional  honor,  and  to  reflect  it  upon  their 
absent  brethren.    I  would  by  no  means  persuade  you 


78  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

to  Study  law  contrary  to  your  interest;  but  there  is 
one  remark  I  think  merits  attention  ;  that  is,  that  your 
disposition  and  abilities  are  thought  to  be  peculiarly 
adapted  to  the  practice  of  the  law.  I  mention  this, 
because  it  is  a  matter  indifferent  persons  are  more 
capable  to  judge  of  than  you  are  yourself;  and  1  have 
often  heard  it  said,  "  It  will  be  a  pity  if  Hobart  is  not  a 
lawyer."  But  I  have  one  request  to  make,  that  you 
will  come  and  see  me  before  you  engage  in  business. 
It  may  seem  a  very  unreasonable  request  that  you 
should  travel  two  hundred  miles  to  see  me ;  but  I  hope 
you  will  consider  such  a  journey  would  be  attended 
with  many  advantages,  and  I  will  engage  to  furnish 
you  with  such  amusements  as  I  possess,  viz.  a  plenty  of 
books  and  a  few  friends.  Remember  me  sincerely  to 
Skinner :  independent  of  his  being  your  friend,  which 
is  a  sufficient  recommendation,  he  is  one  of  the  few  I 
have  found  among  mankind  who  merit  all  the  esteem  of 
the  purest  heart.  With  all  the  well  wishes  of  a  sincere 
friend,  I  am  constantly  yours, 

Alexajvder  White.' 

*  Woodville,  QOth  January,  1794. 
My  dear  Henry, 

I  have  received  yours  of  December  30th.  I  need 
not  say  with  pleasure:  a  piece  of  blank  paper  from 
your  hand  would  be  pleasing ;  how  much  more  a  paper 
filled  with  those  sentiments  which  are  calculated  to 
afford  delight.  Your  account  of  the  decision  of  the 
honors  and  the  subsequent  transactions  was  very  satis- 
factory, and  reminded  me  of  the  bustle  excited  in  our 
class.    I  am  much  pleased  with  your  conduct  on  the 


B  I  S  II  0  P     H  0  B  A  R  T.  /9 

occasion,   and  would  observe  that   the  treatment   you 
met  with  may  be  considered  an  emblem  of  what  every 
person,  whom   merit  has   rendered   conspicuous,   may 
expect  from  tlie  invidious  world.     Since  you  consider 
the  mercantile  life  most  eligible,  I  most  sincerely  wish 
you  happiness  and  prosperity  in  the  pursuit  of  it.     I 
can    readily   suppose   that    your   feelings    upon    your 
change  of  situation  were  not  very  pleasing.     Mine,  I 
well  remember,  were  far  from  it ;  but  time  and  reason 
will  reconcile  every  one  to  his  condition.     I  was  going 
to  propose  an  agreement  for  our  mutual  benefit,  —  that 
when  we  become  men  of  business,  I  should  send  our 
backwoods'  merchants  to  deal  with   you,   and  you  ir 
return  should  empower  me  to  collect  from  those  who 
might  prove  delinquent;   but   perhaps  this   agreement 
may  be  postponed.     I  rejoice  to  hear  that  our  fraternity 
still  stands   forth  as   the    school  of  virtue    and  useful 
knowledge.     My  intercourse  with  it  seems  in  a  great 
measure  cut  off  now  that  you   have   left  it,    but   my 
attachment  remains,  and  I  hope  you  will  occasionally 
write  me  what  you  know  of  its  situation. 
Yours  truly, 

Alexander  White.' 

•  WoodtUlc,  \9th  March,  1794. 
My  dear  Henry, 

I  feel  myself  much  obliged  to  my  Philadelphia 
friends  for  their  punctual  correspondence,  by  which  I 
am  frequently  served  with  an  agreeable  relish,  after 
being  satiated  with  the  harsh  food  of  the  law.  I  often 
thought,  during  the  winter,  that  it  must  be  a  most 
pleasant  thing,  when  you  could  enjoy  all  the  advan- 
tages   of  society,   without  exposure  to   the   inclement 


80  MEMOIROF 

season ;  instead  of  being  confined  within  the  lonesome 
walls  of  a  country  cottage,  almost  buried  in  banks  of 
snow.  But  how  reversed  is  the  comparison,  as  spring 
now  approaches,  with  her  vivifying  influence,  when 
the  cottage  is  perfumed  with  rural  fragrance,  and  all 
things  look  cheerful  from  the  genial  rays  of  Sol.  How 
pleasing  to  hear  the  sweet  singing-birds  every  morning 
announce  the  arrival  of  day,  and  by  their  melodious 
notes  invite  you  to  partake  of  their  gayety.  Fortune, 
or  rather  providence,  is,  generally  speaking,  equal  to  all 
in  her  favors ;  and  indeed  it  would  seem  contrary  to  all 
our  ideas  of  justice,  if  men  in  one  line  of  life  were 
denied  equal  happiness  with  others,  when  at  the  same 
time  the  good  of  the  community  requires  that  a  variety 
of  occupations  should  be  pursued. 

I  have  made  some  progress  in  my  studies,  but  not  so 
great  as  I  expected  I  would  have  made  by  this  time, 
when  I  began  them.  It  is  impossible,  I  find,  to  apply 
to  them  with  JYassovian  diligence.  I  mean  now  to 
begin  a  regular  course  of  reading,  intermixing  history, 
&c.,  with  the  law,  and  will  take  the  Bible  as  the  first 
and  most  important  history. 

I  am  not  certain  whether  this  letter  is  paying  a  debt 
or  advancing  upon  credit ;  but  rather  believe  the  latter 
is  the  case,  and  if  so,  I  shall  expect  a  good  remittance, 
as  punctuality,  you  know,  is  the  life  of  merchandise ; 
and  beside,  I  shall  be  very  necessitous.  It  always  gives 
me  pleasure  to  have  a  good  paymaster  for  my  debtor ; 
there  is  then  all  the  pleasure  of  anticipation,  with  a 
certainty  of  real  enjoyment.  With  esteem  and  affection, 
I  am  your  constant  friend, 

Alexander  White.' 


BISHOP     HOBART.  81 

'  Phil-udelphia,  June  llth,  1794. 
My  dear  White, 

It  is  a  long  time  since  I  have  written  to  you,  and 
much  longer  since  I  heard  from  you ;  a  letter  is  now 
so  great  a  rarity,  that  I  anxiously  wish  for  one.  In 
mercantile  phrase,  I  am  largely  the  creditor,  and  you 
are  greatly  in  arrears ;  which,  if  you  fail  to  make  up, 
I  shall  direct  some  attorney  in  your  neighborhood  to 
put  it  in  suit.  You  had  better,  then,  with  all  speed, 
hasten  to  discharge  your  debt.  How  much  law  have 
you  got  in  your  head  by  this  time  ?  Do  you  think  you 
have  enough  to  perplex  an  honest  farmer,  and  make  it 
appear  to  him  that  wrong  is  right?  If  so,  for  mercy's 
sake  stop,  for  I  am  sure  you  have  learned  all  the  art  of 
your  profession. 

The  poor  fellows  at  Princeton  are  kept  as  hard  at  it 
as  ever,  and  the  Whig  Society  rules  them  with  a  rod  of 
iron.  Yours  affectionately, 

J.  H.  HoBART.' 

On  the  above  letter  is  endorsed,  in  Mr. 
Hobart's  hand-writing, — '  Princeton,  July  23d. 
Wrote  to  White  informing  him  of  my  intention 
and  views  in  entering  into  the  ministry.'  This 
letter  is  not  found.  The  next  from  him  is  as 
follows  : 

*  Princeton,  August  ^Gth,  1794. 
My  dear  White, 

I  thank  you  very  smcerely  for  your  good  wishes 

in  the  new  engagements  on  which  I  am  entering  ;  and 

the  affectionate  manner  in  which  you  express   them, 

renders  them  still  more  pleasing  to  me.     AVhen  I  look 

4* 


82  M  E  M  0  I  R     0  F 

forward  to  the  important  duties  that  will  be  incumbent 
on  me,  I  feel  no  small  degree  of  anxiety,  and  wens  I  to 
rely  on  myself  alone,  I  should  shrink  back  from  the 
undertaking. 

Your  remarks  on  the  importance  of  religion,  my 
dear  White,  much  pleased  me.  They  spring  from  that 
good  sense,  and  soundness  of  principle,  which  I  may 
say  without  flattery  have  always  distinguished  you. 
I  would  add  to  what  you  have  said  :  If  religion  be 
of  acknowledged  importance,  why  is  it  not  more 
generally  professed  ?  If  it  be  necessary  to  the  exist- 
ence of  civil  society,  and  to  the  support  of  govern- 
ment, Avhy  do  not  public  men  guide  themselves  by  its 
precepts  ?  Ought  not  every  one  who  feels  its  import- 
ance, both  as  respects  the  present  and  the  future,  to 
regulate  his  conduct  by  it?  This  is  certainly  the 
dictate  of  reason.  Those  again  who  are  influenced  by 
religion  to  become  austere  in  their  conduct  and  deport- 
ment, though  they  may  be  sincere,  are  yet  certainly 
misguided.  The  Christian  has  certainly  the  most 
reason  to  be  cheerfuL  The  prospect  of  future  happiness 
gives  additional  enjoyment  to  the  present,  and  is  a 
powerful  support  under  every  affliction.  Though  it  do 
not  wholly  exclude  the  pleasures  of  the  world,  it  yet 
offers  others  infinitely  more  valuable ;  while  the  con- 
sciousness that  the  greatest  and  best  of  Beings  not  only 
pardons  his  sins,  but  extends  to  him  favor  and  protection, 
diffuses  through  the  soul  of  the  Christian  a  happiness 
■yvhich  those  alone  who  feel  it  can  know. 

The  news  of  the  death  of  our  common  friend,  Rhea, 
has,  I  suppose,  before  this  time  reached  you.  Thus  we 
see  how  the  best  prospects  are  prematurely  blasted. 


B  I  S  H  O  P     II  0  B  A  R  T.  S3 

Does  not  the  reflection  naturally  arise,  "  How  uncertain 
is  life  and  human  enjoyments." 

My  time  has  passed  very  happily  in  the  society  of 
the  students,  but  I  cannot  say  I  have  done  as  much  as  1 
expected.  It  is  probable  that  immediately  after  the 
Commencement  I  shall  go  to  Philadelphia,  and  enter 
directly  on  the  study  of  divinity.  How  and  Campbell 
were  competitors  for  the  Latin  Salutatory ;  the  former 
is  a  fine  little  fellow  from  Trenton,  and  lived  with  me 
during  the  last  year  I  was  at  college ;  he  is  not  more 
than  seventeen  years  of  age. 

I  got  a  letter  the  other  day  from  Watkins.  In  the 
southern  States  they  are  for  tarring  and  feathering 
every  one  who  does  not  approve  of  every  violent  mea- 
sure which  hot-headed  demagogues  may  advocate. 
Freedom  of  opinion,  that  very  essence  of  liberty,  is 
destroyed  among  them,  and  yet  they  wish  to  make  a 
monopoly  of  republicanism.  If  I  am  not  allowed  to 
think  as  I  please  and  profess  my  sentiments,  as  long  as 
I  support  the  constitution  and  laws  of  my  country,  it 
is  of  little  consequence  who  prevents  me,  whether  the 
Empress  of  Russia,  or  one  of  these  democratic  socie- 
ties. Indeed  I  sometimes  tremble  for  the  safety  of  my 
country.  Such  is  the  spirit  of  license  cherished  by 
ambitious  demagogues,  and  countenanced  by  the  heat 
and  impetuosity  of  some  of  the  representatives  of  the 
people,  that  I  sometimes  fear  the  consequences  will  be 
fatal  to  the  peace  and  happiness  of  our  country.  But  I 
yet  hope  and  trust  that  the  good  sense  of  the  people  in 
general  will  be  made,  in  the  hands  of  Providence,  th? 
instrument  for  supporting  the  liberty  and  prosperity  of 
these  United  States.     Your  affectionate  friend, 

J.  H.  HOBART.' 


84  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

'  Woodville,  8th  September,  1794. 
JSly  dear  Henry, 

To  you,  who  are  acquainted  with  my  attachment 
to  our  departed  friend,  I  need  not  express  the  grief  his 
death  occasioned  me.  The  time  has  been,  when  I 
thought  I  could  scarcely  live  without  him  ;  but  a  long 
separation,  though  it  did  not  lessen  my  affection,  never- 
theless diminished  my  dependence  on  his  advice  and 
example  to  direct  my  conduct :  —  but  I  hasten  from  a 
subject  on  which  my  mind  is  but  too  inclined  to  dwell. 

The  decision  of  the  honors  presents  more  cheerful 
ideas ;  no  doubt  our  Society  has  produced  another  crop 
of  valuable  fruit,  and  while  we  see  time  consuming 
one  even  before  it  is  mature,  it  is  a  consolation  that 
there  are  fresh  supplies  still  growing.  Your  favor  of 
the  10th  instant  leads  my  mind  to  a  variety  of  interest- 
ing reflections.  The  fleeting  nature  of  time,  which 
passes  by  almost  unnoticed  by  the  whole  creation,  is  a 
matter  highly  important  to  every  accountable  being. 
Time  carries  us  far  distant  from  objects  that  once  were 
present,  and  pleased  our  fancy,  and  gratified  our  desires, 
while  we  are  yet  thinking  that  we  need  only  turn  about 
to  behold  them  as  usual.  The  difficulty  of  keeping  our 
passions  under  the  guidance  of  reason,  is  painted  by 
you  in  striking  colors.  This  difficulty  seems  designed 
as  a  criterion  to  ascertain  our  real  virtue;  for  I  con- 
ceive, as  far  as  any  person  indulges  a  passion  in  oppo- 
sition to  reason,  so  far  does  he  wander  from  the  straight 
and  narrow  path  of  virtue.  Although  I  believe  few 
are  happier  than  myself,  yet  I  find  a  great  difference 
between  my  present  situation  and  my  former  one  at 
college,  where  every  thing  glided  on  in  tranquil  felicity. 
It  is,  therefore,  with  mixed  feelings  of  pleasure   and 


BISHOP     HOBART.  85 

regret,  that  I  hear  of  your  being  again  seated  within 
the  enchanting  walls  of  Nassau;  of  pleasure,  because 
you  must  there  enjoy  what  can  rarely  be  experienced 
in  this  tumultuous  world  —  of  regret,  because  it  pro- 
duces a  fresh  recollection  of  those  happy  moments  I 
once  enjoyed  there,  and  which  are  gone,  alas,  never  to 
return.  You  will,  no  doubt,  well  improve  the  very 
favorable  opportunity  given  for  study  and  reflection. 
As  far  as  I  am  judge,  your  plan  is  extremely  proper. 
The  Bible  is  certainly  the  foundation  of  all  true  reli- 
gion; but  while  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  it  is 
absolutely  necessary,  you  will  yet  reap  great  advantage 
from  a  general  and  extended  knowledge  of  other  sub- 
jects. Such  knowledge  would  be  profitable  to  persons 
in  any  line  of  life,  but  more  especially  to  those  who 
derive  their  usefulness  from  their  powers  of  persuasion. 
Knowledge  fills  the  mind  with  ideas,  and  an  acquaint- 
ance with  good  authors  greatly  facilitates  the  expression 
and  explanation  of  those  ideas.  As  soon  as  my  in- 
tended change  of  business  is  effected,  and  I  become  so 
settled  as  to  pay  proper  attention  to  so  great  a  subject, 
I  mean  to  appropriate  a  certain  portion  of  my  time  to 
the  study  of  the  Bible. 

I  remain,  &c., 

Alexander  White,  3d.' 

Of  this  college  intimacy,  the  last  record  that 
remains,  is  a  letter  dated  '  Woodville,  21st 
January,  1796,'  which  closes  the  correspond- 
ence with  the  theme  with  which  it  began,  *  the 
welfare  of  the  Whigs.'  *  Well,  what  is  going 
on  in  our  alma  mater  ?     Is  the  old  routine  of 


86  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

action  still  kept  up  ?  How  do  our  brother 
Whigs  prosper  ?  Are  they  as  distinguished  for 
their  virtue  and  literature,  as  those  from  whom 
they  take  their  name  were  for  their  patriotism  1 
In  short,  what  are  you  and  all  my  friends  at 
Princeton  doing  ?  —  hut  I  suspect  my  friends 
are  now  scattered  over  the  face  of  the  earth.' 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Intimacy  with  young  Skinner — Letters — Death — Character. 

Among  young  Hobart's  college  friendships, 
there  was  one  which  deserves  a  fuller  mention, 
not  only  from  the  peculiar  warmth  of  the  attach- 
ment, but  from  the  deeper  interest  given  to  it  by 
an  early  and  long  lamented  death.  Abraham 
Skinner,  to  whom  allusion  has  already  been 
made,  as  a  junior  student  from  Long-Island 
reclaimed  by  his  friend's  influence  from 
thoughtlessness,  if  not  from  vice,  appears  to 
have  been  an  amiable  youth,  of  great  mildness 
of  character,  sweetness  of  disposition,  and 
purity  of  heart,  though  by  nature  inclined  to 
indolence,  and  little  accustomed  by  habit  to 
self-denial.  Above  sixty  letters  from  his  young 
Mentor  still  remain  to  testify  the  warmth, 
sincerity,  and  spiritual  value  of  his  friendship. 


B  I  SHOP     II  OB  ART.  87 

They  occupy  the  period  of  two  years,  which 
intervened  between  their  separation  at  college 
and  the  death  of  Skinner.  The  following  will 
be  sufficient  to  convey  their  moral  tone,  the 
college  details  being  omitted  as  uninteresting. 

'  Philadelphia,  May  8th,  1794. 
My  dearest  Skinner, 

As  I  cannot  be  with  you,  I  wish  you  had  a 
companion  who  might,  in  some  degree,  supply  the 
absence  of  your  friend.  A  disposition  so  remarkably 
fond  of  society  as  yours,  stands  in  need  of  much  indul- 
gence ;  but  as  you  cannot  now  enjoy  it,  be  contented. 
Reflect  that  your  retired  situation  gives  you  many 
advantages.  You  can  pursue  with  more  vigor  your 
studies,  and  standing  less  in  the  way  of  temptation, 
acquire  habits  of  seriousness  and  reflection.  Society, 
however,  is  necessary,  and  as  you  cannot  enjoy  as  much 
as  you  wish,  strive  to  render  what  you  have  more 
agreeable.  Indeed,  my  dear  Skinner,  I  think  your 
situation  valuable  on  many  accounts,  and  the  greatest 
happiness  I  can  enjoy  in  my  absence  from  you,  will  be 
to  hear  of  your  improvement.  I  am,  therefore,  delighted 
to  hear  that  you  have  read  so  much  during  the  last 
winter.  You  have  considerable  time  for  improvement 
before  you;  every  moment  of  it  is  valuable.  But  reli- 
gion is  the  one  thing  needful.  All  our  attainments  in 
human  science,  all  our  boasted  improvements  of  the 
mind,  will  sleep  in  death.  But  religion  will  be  our  stay 
through  time,  and  through  eternity.  Oh,  my  dear 
Skinner,  let  true  religion  be  our  choice,  and  let  us  learn 
what  true  religion  is  from  the  Scriptures  of  God.     We 


88  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

shall  there  find  that  repentance,  faith,  and  obedience 
are  its  main  pillars.  Let  us  not,  then,  place  our  reli- 
ance in  the  mere  performance  of  external  duty,  nor  even 
m  those  more  amiable  accomplishments  which  do  not 
flow  from  a  sincere  love  of  God  and  faith  in  a  Redeemer. 
If  we  are  not  feelingly  convinced  that  of  ourselves  we 
can  do  nothing,  that  the  Spirit  of  grace  must  subdue 
and  purify  our  diseased  nature,  and  that  the  all-atoning 
merits  of  a  blessed  Redeemer  alone  can  give  us  a  title 
to  immortal  happiness,  and  reconcile  an  offended  God, 
all  our  works  and  righteousness  will  avail  us  nothing. 
Let  me,  then,  earnestly  entreat  you  to  give  attention  to 
your  spiritual  concerns,  to  read  the  word  of  God  and 
comments  upon  it ;  and  above  all,  to  pray  earnestly  that 
he  would  guide  you  by  his  Holy  Spirit  in  the  way  of 
truth.  I  long  ardently  to  see  you,  my  dearest  Skinner, 
and  rest  assured  that,  if  in  my  power,  I  will  embrace 
you  this  summer.     *     *     *     * 

Your  sincere  and  affectionate  friend, 

J.    H.    HOBART.' 

Princeton^  July  12,  1794. 

The  scenes  around  me  often  recall  you,  my  dearest 
Skinner,  to  my  memory,  and  raise  emotions  of  tender- 
ness and  affection  which  I  cannot  express.  It  was  here 
our  friendship  was  first  formed,  here  we  have  passed 
the  happiest  hours,  and  here  our  affection  went  through 
those  various  trials  which  have  proved  its  sincerity. 
But  why  be  fateful  to  me  ?  I  want  not  what  I  do  not 
merit.  Your  letter  breathes  an  affection  and  sincerity 
which  will  always  make  you  dear  to  me.    I  would, 


BISHOP     HOB  ART.  89 

therefore,  use  my  influence  in  earnestly  entreating  you 
to  make  the  salvation  of  your  soul  the  object  of  your 
immediate  and  constant  care.     Seriously  examine  your 
own   heart.     'Tis  the  grace  of  God  alone,  through  a 
Saviour,  that  can  subdue  it  —  that  can  change  its  obsti- 
nate  and  sinful  desires.     You  will  meet  with  many 
discouragements  ;    the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil 
are  all  your  enemies  ;  they  will  all  strive  to  destroy  the 
divine  seed  in  your  soul ;  but  your  helper  is  God,  your 
redeemer  is  the  Lord.     Trust  in  the  Saviour,  he  is  all- 
powerful,  he  can  vanquish  all  your  enemies.     Seek  him 
and  you  shall  find  him.     He  never  yet  rejected  the  peni- 
tent sinner.     Oh,  my  friend,  seriously  think  on  these 
things.     "Taste  and  see  that  the  Lord  is  good;"  that 
"religion's  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her 
paths  are  peace."    Unworthy  as  I  am,  feeble  as  my  faith 
is  in  the  Saviour,  I  Avould  not  exchange  the  peace  I  feel 
from  my  trust  in  him,  for  all  the  honors  and  enjoyments 
of  the  world.     Recollect  that  these  will  fade  away,  and 
the  end  of  time  will  be  the  beginning  of  eternity.     I  will 
not,  my  dearest  Skinner,  ask  your  pardon  for  being  thus 
free  with  you  ;  my  love  for  you  constrains  me.     I  also 
stand  in  need  of  your  prayers.     Pray  that  God  would 
subdue  by  his  grace  the  corruption  of  my  heart,  that  he 
would  wean  me  from  an  attachment  to  the  world,  and 
that  he  Avould  make  every  power  of  my  soul,  as  well  as 
every  action  of  my  life,  to  praise  and  adore  his  great  and 
glorious  name.      Pray  especially  for  yourself.     If  you 
do  not  already,  pray  that  you  may  be  led  to  see  your 
guilt  and  misery,  and  need  of  a  Redeemer ;  that  you 
may  embrace  Jesus  Christ  as  your  Saviour,  and  trust 
in  him  with  your  whole  soul.     And  that  this  may  be 


90  M  E  M  O  I  R     0  F 

your  condition,  use  diligently,  perseveringly,  and  above 
all,  sincerely,  all  the  means  of  grace.  Have  stated  times 
for  devotion.  Read  the  Bible,  that  precious  treasure  of 
the  grace  and  love  of  God,  and  pray  that  God  would 
enlighten  your  understanding. 

Your  affectionate  friend, 

J.  H.  HoBART.' 

'  Princeton,  August  9,  1794. 

****** 

If  any  thing,  my  dearest  friend,  could  render  you 
dearer  to  me  than  you  already  are,  it  Avould  be  your  filial 
affection;  and  as  this  is  particularly  your  motive  to  the 
study  of  the  law,  I  would  not,  for  a  moment,  think  of 
advising  you  to  any  thing  else.  No,  that  is  the  profes- 
sion it  is  your  duty  to  pursue,  and  in  which,  perhaps, 
with  your  feelings,  you  can  best  serve  your  Creator. 
It  rejoices  me  to  think  it  is  your  wish  and  intention  to 
serve  him.  I  am  glad  to  find  you  have  made  such 
progress  in  human  science ;  but  oh,  neglect  not  that 
divine  and  heavenly  knowledge  which  will  make  you 
happy  here  and  hereafter.  The  law,  you  think,  in  the 
practice  of  it,  will  not  be  very  pleasing.  Neither  that, 
my  Skinner,  nor  any  other  profession,  can  afford  you 
real  happiness  without  religion.  I  am  far  from  sup- 
posing that  the  practice  of  the  law  is  incompatible 
with  holiness  of  heart ;  but  as  you  may  meet  with  more 
temptations  in  one  profession  than  in  another,  so  I  think 
you  will  meet  with  a  great  many  in  the  law ;  but  a  firm 
trust  in  your  Saviour,  under  the  assistance  of  the  grace 
of  God,  will  enable  you  to  go  through  them  all.  My 
first  wish  is,  let  your  profession  be  what  it  will,  that 
you  may  obtain  and  preserve  an  interest  in  the  atone- 


B  1  S  II  O  P     li  0  E  A  R  T.  91 

ment  of  the  Redeemer,  and  serve  him  and  your  God  in 
holiness  of  life.    I  remain,  my  dearest  Skinner, 
Your  affectionate  friend, 

J.    H.  HOBART.' 

'  Philadelphia,  November  10,  1794. 
My  dearest  Skinner, 

*  *  *  Your  letter  of  the  31st  October  yielded 
me  peculiar  pleasure.  While  it  was  expressive  of  the 
warmest  affection,  it  conveyed  information  relative  to 
your  studies  and  pursuits  in  the  highest  degree  pleasing. 
Separated  from  you,  a  very  principal  consolation  to  me 
is,  that  you  are  engaged  in  the  improvement  of  your 
mind,  and  that  your  prudence  and  goodness  lead  you,  in 
a  reliance  on  the  assistance  of  the  Almighty,  to  avoid 
every  course  that  would  tend  to  the  debasement  of  your 
mental  faculties,  or  your  moral  taste. 

With  respect  to  the  members  of  the  law  societies  of 
which  you  speak,  I  hope  you  will  exercise  your  usual 
prudence,  and  contract  no  intimacy  further  than  common 
civility  requires,  without  being  assured  that  their  charac- 
ters are  unblameable  and  their  dispositions  good.  Better 
be  without  companions  than  have  bad  ones.  The  study  of 
your  profession,  and  the  assistance  you  give  your  father, 
render  your  present  situation  most  proper,  and  therefore 
it  should  be  most  pleasing. 

You  write  very  feelingly  on  the  subject  of  religion,  and 
complain  that  you  want  a  friend  to  direct  you.  Where 
will  you  find  one  ?  My  dear  Skinner,  "  a  friend  that 
sticketh  closer  than  a  brother,"  is  ever  present  with  you, 
and  ready  to  assist  you.  Look  not  unto  a  worm  of  the 
dust,  but  look  unto  your  Saviour,  and  through  him  to 


92  MEMOIROF 

your  God.  "  His  love  is  indeed  better  than  life."  That 
he  may  guide,  preserve,  and  bless  you,  is  the  prayer  of 
a  friend  more  affectionate  than  language  can  express. 

J.    H.    HOBART.' 

'  Princeton,  January  27,  1795. 
You  are  certainly,  ray  dear  Skinner,  under  the 
greatest  obligations  to  your  dear  parents,  and  I  rejoice 
that  you  have  it  in  your  power  to  make  a  return.  As 
well  as  yourself,  I  feel  the  impulse  of  gratitude  to  my 
one  only  parent,  whose  affection  has  extended  to  me 
every  proper  gratification,  though  at  the  expense  of  her 
own  ease.  Alas,  how  far  do  I  fall  short  of  the  gratitude 
due  to  this  my  earthly  parent,  and  how  infinitely  more 
defective  am  I  in  a  proper  expression  toward  that 
heavenly  Parent  "who  giveth  me  all  good  things  richly 
to  enjoy  !  "  I  feel  grateful  to  my  dear  mother  for  the 
willingness  with  which  she  consents  to  my  now  living 
from  her.  She  was  pleasing  herself  with  the  hope  that 
I  would  spend  my  time  in  future  with  her.  In  this  she 
makes  a  great  sacrifice.  Her  income,  which  has  never 
been  more  than  barely  sufficient  to  support  her  family, 
has  become  now,  owing  to  the  enhanced  price  of  pro- 
visions, and  the  depreciation  of  money,  virtually  less ; 
and  thus  she  must  deprive  herself  of  many  gratifications, 
in  order  to  maintain  me  at  Princeton.  Thus  does  she 
sacrifice  her  own  comfort  for  that  of  her  son.  But  this 
she  has  always  done.  Oh,  my  friend,  Providence  has 
indeed  blessed  me  in  her  with  a  mother  whose  value  and 
worth  I  am  afraid  I  shall  never  sufficiently  know,  till 
I  am  deprived  of  her.  But  I  pray  God  that  he  will 
warm  my  heart  with  gratitude,  and  make  my  whole 
life  a  suitable  return  for  her  love. 


BISHOPHOBART.  93 

God  has  given  you  talents,  my  best  friend,  which  are 

capable,  by  due  cultivation,  of  advancing  you  to  honor ; 
and  with  the  disposition  you  have  to  improve  them,  I 
often  please  myself  with  the  prospect  of  the  future  use- 
fulness of  my  friend.  May  he  qualify  you  for  every 
duty,  and  enable  you  so  to  live  in  this  life,  that  you 
may  finally  live  with  him  in  life  everlasting. 
Yours  affectionately, 

J.    H.    HOBART.' 

*  Princeton,  March  lith,  1795. 

I  received  the  usual  satisfaction  from  the  last  letter  of 
my  dearest  friend.  It  was  the  more  pleasing,  because  it 
was  written  in  those  moments  of  cessation  from  busi- 
ness which  you  might  have  given  to  relaxation.  To  be 
always  so  engaged  in  business  as  to  possess  no  leisure 
for  reflection,  is  equally  detrimental  to  the  improvement 
of  the  mind  and  the  morals.  "  To  commune  with  our 
own  hearts "  is  a  duty  of  religion :  it  will  never  be 
otherwise  implanted  in  the  heart.  To  put  the  busy 
scenes  of  the  world  at  times  at  a  distance  —  to  consider 
a  future  state  as  our  home  —  to  contemplate  the  perfec- 
tions of  the  Deity,  and  the  duty  of  imitating  them  —  to 
hold  in  view  the  value  of  religion,  and  its  glorious  re- 
wards in  a  future  state  —  are  among  the  best  cherishers 
of  virtue  and  piety. 

Sleep,  as  you  observe,  is  sweet  to  the  body  fatigued 
by  labor,  or  the  mind  by  study ;  and  the  goodness  of  God 
is  conspicuous  in  so  ordering  the  succession  of  day  and 
night  as  to  please  by  their  variety,  as  well  as  by  the 
repose  which  one  affords  from  the  duties  of  the  other. 
You  find  yourself,  you  say,  unable  to  do  much  at  night ; 
in  fact,  if  the  day  be  well  improved,  the  night  is  best 
given  to  repose.    My  eyes  still  continue  so  weak  as  to 


94  M  E  M  O  I  R     0  F 

prevent  me  studying  at  night ;  but  I  generally  rise  at  five 
in  the  morning,  so  that  by  the  evening  I  get  pretty  well 
tired,  though  I  find  I  cannot  study  as  much  as  I  wish, 
from  indisposition  sometimes,  from  hindrance  at  others. 

What  pleasure  would  I  receive,  my  dearest  friend, 
could  you  enjoy  at  this  place  with  me,  the  advantages 
and  pleasures  of  retirement.  How  would  our  exertions 
be  bent  to  mutual  improvement.  Ah,  my  friend,  the 
pleasing  hopes  we  have  so  often  indulged  of  spending 
our  time  together,  will  not,  I  am  afraid,  be  soon  realized. 
Duty  at  present  calls  us,  and  perhaps  through  life  Avill 
call  us,  to  different  scenes  of  action.  We  must  acquiesce. 
Let  us  be  diligent  in  framing  our  lives  according  to  the 
will  of  God,  and  we  shall  then  spend  an  eternity  of  hap- 
piness together.  There  can  be  no  greater  incentive  to 
duty  than  a  sense  of  our  obligations  to  him,  and  no 
support  more  effectual  under  the  cares  and  misfortunes 
of  life,  than  that  which  the  enjoyment  of  his  favor  con- 
fers. Let  me  know  what  place  of  worship  you  attend. 
Dr.  Moore,*  one  of  the  Episcopal  preachers,  is,  I  am 
told,  a  man  of  great  talents  and  sound  piety. 

I  dare  say  you  take  great  pleasure  in  improving  your 
mind.  I  know  I  do,  and  yet  my  progress  is  not  equal  to 
my  wishes.  I  am  animated  to  diligence  very  much  by 
the  consideration  of  the  many  great  and  good  characters 
of  other  days.  I  wish  frequently  we  were  together,  in 
order  that  we  might  rightly  regulate  and  improve  our 
time.  But  since  we  are  denied  this  happiness,  let  us  be 
strenuous  in  our  exertions  to  improve  ourselves  and  one 
another.  We  cannot  sufficiently  praise  our  God  that 
he  has  in  every  respect  connected  our  duty  with  our 
happiness  ;  for  religion  requires  the  sacrifice  of  no  one 

♦  Afterward  Bishop  of  the  Diocese  of  New- York. 


BISHOP     HOB  ART.  95 

passion,  nor  the  practice  of  any  one  duty,  which  is  not 
calculated  to  promote  our  peace  of  mind,  and  our  best 
temporal  interests.  May  this  reflection,  with  a  sense  of 
the  long-suffering  goodness  of  God  notwithstanding  our 
sins,  excite  us  to  repentance  and  reformation.  Let  me, 
then,  press  you,  as  I  would  urge  myself,  to  be  "  diligent 
in  working  out  your  salvation."  Delay  not  the  great 
work  of  repentance  till  it  be  too  late.  Begin  with  the 
reformation  of  heart  and  life,  abstaining  from  every 
known  sin,  and  practising  every  known  duty ;  and  let 
all  your  exertions  be  accompanied  with  sincere  and 
fervent  prayer  to  God  for  his  grace,  without  which 
they  cannot  be  effectual ;  and  may  He,  who  is  abundant 
in  mercy  and  grace,  form  our  hearts  to  his  most  blessed 
image,  and  our  lives  to  his  most  holy  law,  that  when 
this  mortal  life  is  ended,  we  may  be  received  into  life 
eternal,  through  the  all-sufficient  merits  of  Christ  our 
Saviour.  Do  not  our  hearts  answer,  Amen  ?  O  let  us, 
then,  enter  on  that  course  of  life  which  will  conduct  us 
to  the  mansions  of  eternal  bliss.  That  God  may  pre- 
serve, bless,  and  finally  crown  you  with  eternal  happi- 
ness, my  dearest  Skinner,  is  the  constant  prayer  of  your 
sincerely  affectionate 

HOBART.' 

If  such  admonitions  can  be  rendered  more 
impressive,  it  is  by  the  reflection  that  the  young 
friend  to  whom  they  were  addressed  was  within 
a  few  weeks  prematurely  cut  off  by  the  hand 
of  death  ;  he  fell  a  sacrifice  to  the  prevailing 
epidemic  of  that  summer,  after  an  illness  of  but 
four  days.     The  last  letter  of  young  Hobart, 


96  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

in  the  hands  of  his  biographer,  addressed  to  his 
friend,  is  equally  admonitory  with  the  one  just 
given.  After  noticing  the  sudden  death  of  two 
dissipated  students  in  the  college,  he  thus  closes: 
'  It  is  an  awful  lesson,  and  aifords  to  all  a  proof 
of  the  advantages  which  in  the  hour  of  death 
the  good  man  enjoys  over  him  who  has  spent 
his  time  in  "  drunkenness  and  riotous  living," 
or  in  "  fulfilling  the  lusts  of  the  flesh."  May 
you  and  I,  my  friend,  warned  thereto  by  these 
instances  of  mortality,  be  diligent  in  our  pre- 
paration for  the  awful  hour  of  death,  and  the 
more  solemn  day  of  judgment. 

J.   H.   HOBART.' 

How  solemn  this  admonition  !  It  was 
scarcely  more  than  received  and  read  before 
the  reader  was  hurried  to  the  tomb.  He  died 
the  6th  of  September,  1795. 

The  following  letter  is  from  the  afflicted 
father,  communicating  the  intelligence. 

'  My  dear  Hobart, 

How  shall  I  begin  this  sad  epistle  !  I  must,  I  must 
begin  it,  and  be  you  prepared  to  read.  My  darling  boy 
is  no  more.  With  this  morning's  dawn  his  pious  soul 
took  its  flight  to  regions  of  happiness  and  peace.  Yes, 
my  friend,  his  race,  though  short,  is  run,  and  he  is  gone, 
I  hope,  to  meet  a  merciful  God.  O  sad  lesson,  O  bitter 
cup !  how  shall  I  drink  it !    I  will,  I  will  bow  submis- 


BISHOP     HOB  ART.  97 

sive  to  Him  who  cannot  err,  Avho  gave  to  me,  and  has 
taken  from  me  ;  blessed  be  his  holy  name.     Teach  me, 

0  gracious  God,  to  bear  my  affliction  ;  support  and 
strengthen  me,  and  make  me  sensible  of  my  dependence 
upon  thee.  But  amidst  this  direful  confusion  and  dis- 
tress, what  a  consolation  that  he  had  his  reason  almost 
to  the  last ;  and  in  his  lucid  intervals,  very  shortly  be- 
fore his  dissolution,  his  expressions  and  ejaculations 
exhibited  strong  proofs  of  his  resignation  to  the  will  of 
Heaven,  and  a  firm  reliance  on  his  God,  through  the 
merits  of  a  blessed  Redeemer.  Let  these  things,  my 
friend,  comfort  you,  and  learn  by  his  fate  to  be  always 
ready.  Your  letter  of  1st  September  he  received  on  his 
death-bed ;  it  was  read  to  him  by  his  mother,  but  the 
invitation  came  too  late.  You  have  our  blessings  for  it ; 
and  though  my  child  is  dead,  I  know  with  you  his  me- 
mory will  survive  :  he  had  a  place  in  your  heart,  and  I 
know  it  v/ill  not  be  effaced. 

Your  afflicted,  but  sincere  friend, 

A.  Skinner. 

New -York,  Qth  September,  1795. 

Sunday,  9  A.  .M. 

P.  S.  On  opening  his  desk  this  morning,  the  first 
thing   that   presented    itself  to  me  was  the   enclosed. 

1  am  indaced  to  think  it  was  part  of  a  letter  intended 
for  you.  Keep  it ;  it  is  his  last.  If  ever  you  come  this 
way  come  to  me,  and  let  me  embrace  my  dear  child's 
friend.  Y\'rite  me,  Hobart ;  it  v/ill  console  me,  it  will 
give  his  mother  some  ease. 

2d  P.  S.  Pardon  me  for  not  sending  you  the  paper 
above  alluded  to,  his  mother  cannot  spare  it  yet ;  but  T 
will  preserv^e  it  for  you.' 


98  MEMOIROF 

The  endorsement  on  this  letter  reads  thus  : 
'  Abraham  Skinner,  Esq.,  New- York,  Septem- 
ber 6,  1795.  Containing  information  of  the 
death  of  his  son,  my  dearest  friend,  who  was  first 
united  to  me  in  the  bonds  of  a  close  friendship 
in  the  summer  of  1793,  at  Princeton  College. 
I  did  not  receive  this  letter  at  Frankfort  till  the 
14th,  the  day  I  entered  on  my  nineteenth  year. 
Melancholy  birth-day.  I  write  down  these  cir- 
cumstances, from  a  wish  to  preserve  on  a  tablet 
more  durable  than  memory,  every  thing  relating 
to  this  melancholy  event.' 

The  answer  returned  to  the  heart-broken 
father  leads  him  to  his  only  source  of  comfort. 
'  My  dear  Sir,  —  I  sincerely  hope  and  pray 
that  the  weight  of  grief  which  overpowered  you 
has  been  rendered  lighter  by  those  consolations 
which  a  trust  in  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of 
the  gracious  Parent  of  the  universe  never  fails 
to  inspire.  Never  did  a  father  lament  the  loss 
of  a  more  amiable  son.  To  cease  to  mourn 
altogether  is  impossible.  Religion  requires  us 
not  to  smother  the  feelings  of  nature  ;  but 
while  she  permits  us  to  mourn,  she  teaches  us 
not  to  "  mourn  as  those  who  have  no  hope," 
for  we  enjoy  the  blessed  assurance,  that  the 
souls  of  those  we  love  exist  beyond  the  grave, 
and  we  trust  that  the  virtue  and  piety  of  him 
we   lament,  has   procured   him,    through   the 


BISHOPHOBART.  90 

merits  of  his  Saviour,  an  admittance  into  those 
blissful  regions  where  "  sorrow  and  sighing  are 
done  away" — thither  let  us  aspire.  Convinced 
of  the  uncertainty  of  earthly  enjoyments,  let  us 
seek  those  which  are  at  God's  right  hand,  and 
we  may  then  hope  once  again  to  enjoy  the  af- 
fection of  him  whose  loss  we  deplore.  Strangers 
and  pilgrims  upon  earth,  he  has  arrived  before 
us  at  the  end  of  his  journey.  He  has  left  us 
to  struggle  with  many  difficulties  in  our  pilgrim- 
age. These  he  has  escaped  ;  why  then  should 
we  repine  ]  His  crown  of  glory  was  attained 
with  little  toil.  Infinite  wisdom  sees  fit  to  try 
us  longer.' 

The  reply  to  this  marks  still  more  strongly 
the  feehngs  of  the  grateful  father. 

'  Jamaica^  L.  /.,  October  lAth^  1795. 
Since  the  receipt  of  your  affectionate  letter,  which  is 
the  only  one  I  have  received  since  the  death  of  my  dear 
boy,  we  have  abandoned  our  distressed  dwelling,  and 
fied  to  this  place,  where  we  have  found  an  asylum 
from  the  dreadful  contagion,  but  not  from  the  wretch- 
edness occasioned  by  our  sad  misfortune.  No,  Hobart ; 
no  time,  no  change,  can  eradicate  that  remembrance. 
Yet  why  do  I  reason  thus  ?  why  do  I  complain  ? 
'Twas  the  will  of  Heaven  —  'twas  right.  He  was  not 
mine,  he  was  too  good  for  such  a  world,  and  lived  as 
he  died,  prepared  for  death,  and  fitted  for  a  glorious 
immortality.  A  few  minutes  before  his  last,  sensible, 
calm,  and  serene,  he  gave  me  proofs  of  his  willingness 


100  MEMOIROF 

to  depart,  and  his  last  accents  breathed  submission  to 
the  will  of  Heaven.  May  Heaven  bless  you,  my  dear 
Hobart,  in  your  pursuits  in  this  life,  and  may  God 
Almighty,  of  his  infinite  mercy  and  goodness,  receive 
you  hereafter,  with  the  joyful  sound  of  '  Well  done, 
good  and  faithful  servant,  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy 
Lord.'     Adieu,  I  can  write  no  more. 

A.  Skinner.' 

That  the  survivor  felt  the  separation  deeply 
and  long,  is  sufficiently  evident  from  his  care- 
ful preservation,  through  a  busy  life,  of  these 
early  records,  but  it  must  have  been  certainly, 
at  all  times,  with  the  alleviating  thought  that 
his  friendship  had  not  been  '  of  this  world.' 
Well  were  it,  indeed,  for  youthful  intimacies, 
if  they  were  oftener  thus  hallowed. 

Of  one  thus  mourned  over,  it  is  pleasing  to 
find  that  he  merited  the  grief,  and  that  less 
partial  pens  have,  with  equal  warmth,  re- 
corded his  virtues.  In  the  Calliopean  Society, 
in  New-York,  of  which  he  was  a  member, 
a  eulogium  was  delivered  on  him  by  one  of  a 
talented  family,  William,  the  elder  brother  of 
Washington  Irving.  In  it  he  describes  him  as 
'  the  young,  the  amiable,  and  the  accom- 
plished.' The  conclusion  of  the  address  shows 
how  deeply  such  events  speak,  even  to  youth- 
ful hearts,  and  almost  reconciles  the  mind  to 
the  wisdom  of  such  dark  and  painful  provi- 


BISHOP     II  0  B  A  R  T.  101 

deuces.  '  Since  so  frequent,'  says  he,  '  and  so 
severe  are  our  losses — since  friend  after  friend 
is  dropping  into  the  grave,  let  us  cement  our 
little  circle  still  stronger  by  increasing  the  ties 
of  alfection ;  let  us,  while  we  cherish  their 
remembrance,  emulate  their  virtues.  So  shall 
we  again  meet,  after  having  performed  our 
part  on  this  stage  of  probation,  in  a  better 
world,  where  neither  disease  nor  death  shall 
come  to  disunite  us,  but  eternity  itself  shall 
immortalize  our  union.'  A  '  monody  '  on  his 
death,  recited  in  the  same  society,  evinced 
alike  their  attachment  and  admiration  ;  and  a 
note  from  a  living  pen,  in  reference  to  the 
present  work,  shows  that  he  is  not  yet  forgotten 
by  its  few  surviving  members.  It  concludes 
in  these  words  :  '  I  can  bear  ample  testimony 
to  the  character  given  of  Skinner,  and  freely 
add  that  his  w^armth  of  friendship  was  equalled 
only  by  his  love  of  literature,  and  his  ardent 
desire  to  acquire  knowledge.'  *  In  the  New- 
York  Magazine  of  the  same  year,  his  virtues 
v/ere  still  more  publicly  recorded  :  '  His  genius, 
virtue,  and  goodness  of  heart,  enhanced  by  the 
amiable  frankness  of  his  disposition,  endeared 
him  to  a  numerous  circle  of  friends  ;  these 
qualities,  added  to  an  affectionate  discharge  of 

♦  James  Swords,  Esq.,  New- York. 


102  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

the  filial  and  fraternal  duties,  made  his  loss 
extensively  lamented,  and  must  have  deeply 
embittered  the  pang  that  tore  him  so  suddenly 
from  the  arms  of  a  family  w^hose  fairest  hopes 
were  fixed  on  him.' — (Vol.  vi.  p.  568.) 


CHAPTER    V. 

Intimacy  with  young  Forsyth — Letters — Death — Younger  Brother — 
Intimacy  with  Grant,  Scott,  &c. — Letters. 

Although  the  one  just  recorded  was  the 
earliest,  and  perhaps  the  warmest  of  young 
Hobart's  intimacies,  it  was  not  the  only  one. 
One  more  was  destined  to  an  early  dissolution 
—  two  others  continued  through  life  to  cheer, 
and  sometimes  to  agitate,  a  bosom  feelingly 
alive  to  all  the  tenderest  emotions  of  our  nature. 
The  first  alluded  to  was  with  a  youth,  whose 
name  thus  appears,  for  the  first  time,  in  a 
letter  to  his  friend  Skinner. 

'  Princeton,  August  2bth,  1794. 

I  wish  you  here,  particularly  to  know  a  sweet  boy, 
for  whom  I  indeed  feel  a  great  affection.  I  want  you 
to  love  him  too.  His  name  is  Forsyth.  His  father 
was  marshal  for  the  district  of  Georgia,  and  was  shot 
dead,  while  in  the  execution  of  his  office,  by  one 
Beverley  Allen.     Perhaps  you  may  have  read  the  cir- 


X 


BISHOP     HOB  ART.  103 

cumstances  of  his  death  in  the  papers  last  winter.  He 
is  about  fourteen.  Poor  fellow,  his  sensibility  is  very 
great.  We  were  walking  together  last  Saturday,  Avhen 
the  circumstances  of  his  father's  death,  and  the  situa- 
tion of  his  family,  rushed  so  forcibly  on  his  mind,  that 
he  cried  till  I  almost  thought  he  would  break  his 
heart.  You  may  be  sure  such  an  instance  of  sensibility 
attached  me  to  him.  I  have  often  talked  to  him  of 
you,  and  he  said  to  me  the  other  day,  '  You  must  let 
Skinner  know  I  am  here.'  This  was  said  Avith  so 
much  simplicity,  it  struck  me  very  much.  He  seems 
to  love  you,  merely  from  Avhat  he  has  heard  of  you. 
It  gives  me  great  satisfaction  to  think,  that  by  my 
residence  in  college  I  may  be  the  means  of  benefiting 
him  in  his  studies.  He  is  a  little  thoughtless,  but 
desirous  in  the  extreme  of  doing  Avhat  is  right ;  and  I 
have  no  doubt  but  that  if  Providence  should  please  to 
bless  his  own  exertions  and  mine  for  him,  he  will  come 
out  of  college  with  as  high  honors  as  any  in  his  class. 
This  would  be  a  desirable  event,  for  his  widowed 
mother  and  a  younger  brother  depend  greatly  upon  him 
for  their  future  comfort  and  happiness  in  life.  Though 
young,  he  is  nearly  as  tall  as  I  am  ;  his  person  not  very 
handsome,  but  his  countenance  beams  simplicity,  inno- 
cence, and  sweetness.  In  this  respect  it  is  an  index  to 
his  mind,  Avhich  is  in  the  highest  degree  amiable  and 
affectionate.  Manly  in  his  deportment,  and  pleasing  in 
his  manners,  he  is  admirably  calculated  to  excite 
esteem.  His  judgment  astonishingly  mature,  and  his 
genius  quick  and  lively,  —  alive  to  every  tender  feeling, 
and  particularly  to  the  emotions  of  friendship,  is  he  not 
worthy  of  our  love  ?  Yes,  I  love  him  for  his  own  worth, 
and  for  his  resemblance  to  my  friend.     What  reason 


101  MEMOIR     OF 

have  I  not  for  gratitude  to  God  for  liis  kindness,  in 
thus  giving  me  the  first  of  earthly  blessings,  the  sweets 
of  friendship. 

Yours  ever,' 

J.  H.  HoBART.' 

After  near  three  years'  companionship  had 
confirmed  this  hasty  attachment  into  what 
better  deserved  the  name  of  friendship,  he  too 
was  taken  from  him. 

After  a  short  residence  at  Princeton  as  a 
graduate,  young  Forsyth  returned  to  Georgia, 
his  native  State,  entering  upon  the  study  of 
the  law  with  the  fairest  prospects,  but  survived 
his  return  only  a  few  months.  The  following 
letters  are  taken  from  a  small  package,  care- 
fully arranged,  and  endorsed  by  young  Hobart : 
tbey  date  from  the  beginning  of  their  intimacy, 
when  one  was  in  his  eighteenth,  and  the  other 
in  his  fourteenth  year.  Though  the  letters  of 
Forsyth  alone  remain,  they  sufficiently  indicate 
the  subject  and  tone  of  those  from  his  friend,  to 
which  they  are  answers  ;  and,  indeed,  like 
reflected  light,  perhaps  best  set  forth  his 
character,  by  showing  the  influence  it  exer- 
cised. It  was  at  any  rate  a  friendship  which 
seems  to  have  been  blessed  by  Providence  as 
the  means  of  fitting  for  an  early  fate  this 
amiable  young  man,  whose  thoughtless  errors. 


B  I  S  H  O  P     II  O  B  A  Pc  T.  105 

and  skeptical  opinions,  seem  gradually  to  have 
given  way  before  the  firmness  and  piety  of  his 
truly  Christian  friend. 

'  Princeton,  November  5th,  1794. 
My  dearest  John, 

I  received  your  letter  of  the  3d  instant,  which  was, 
as  usual,  full  of  affection.  My  dear  Hobart,  your 
advice  is  that  of  a  friend,  and  as  such  your  Robert  will 
observe  it.  I  would  now  commence,  as  you  advise, 
Knox's  Essays,  but  that  Fitzgerald  has  taken  the  keys 
of  the  library  to  Philadelphia,  so  that  I  can  neither  get 
that  nor  the  old  minutes.  I  am  now  reading  Rollin's 
Taste  of  Solid  Glory,  (the  session  does  not  begin  till 
Monday,)  and  have  worked  some  of  the  Algebra. 
Scott  has  not  come  yet ;  I  wrote  him  by  post  twice, 
and  have  not  heard  from  him  ;  I  cannot  conceive  Avhat 
he  is  after.  In  all  your  letters,  my  dear  friend,  appear 
those  sentiments  you  have  ever  expressed  for  your 
Robert,  and  Avhich  have  afforded  me  the  greatest  plea- 
sure :  the  unreservedness  with  which  I  can  unfold  my 
heart  and  pour  out  my  thoughts  to  the  best  of  friends, 
is  a  blessing  very  few  enjoy,  and  which  I  return  God 
thanks  for  giving  me.  I  entreat  you,  my  Hobart,  to 
forgive  me  for  acting  in  so  foolish  a  manner,  and  with 
so  little  reflection,  as  calling  in  question  the  affection 
of  one  who  cannot  avoid  loving  one  who  loves  him  as 
I  do ;  it  was  entirely  owing  to  my  acting  without 
thought,  and  I  know  you  will  excuse  me.  I  will  indeed, 
henceforward,  impute  to  your  affectionate  wishes  for 
my  improvement  in  virtue,  every  thing  you  say,  and 
beg  that  the  fear  of  hurting  me  will  not  stop  you  from 
delivering  your  sentiments  with  that  freedom  with 
5* 


106  M  E  M  O  I  R     0  F 

which  your  conduct  has  always  been  marked ;  and 
be  assured,  I  will  impute  it  to  no  other  cause.  O  my 
Hobart,  in  what  a  condition,  wretched  and  helpless, 
was  I  when  I  first  saw  you :  when  I  reflect  upon  it,  I 
cannot  help  praising  God  for  at  least  calling  me,  through 
you,  from  destruction,  I  trust,  to  salvation.  Yes,  my 
dearest  friend,  my  heart  swells  with  love  and  gratitude 
to  you  for  it  ^  but  it  was  God  directed  you,  and  to  him 
should  my  gratitude  be  turned. 

Adieu ;  may  God  bless  you,  my  dear  Hobart. 

Robert  M.  Forsyth.' 

Since  the  name  of  Dr.  Minto  has  been 
already  mentioned  in  this  memoir  as  one  of 
the  professors  at  this  period  in  the  college,  the 
following  characteristic  picture  may  not  be 
uninteresting  :  it  is  extracted  from  a  subsequent 
letter  of  young  Forsyth. 

'  When  I  was  at  Dr.  Minto's  he  gave  me 
this  very  good  advice,  —  to  attend  to  my  busi- 
ness—  that  I  might  depend  upon  it,  a  young 
man  is  never  in  so  important  a  station  as  when 
at  college  —  if  his  character  should  be  lost  or 
impaired  then,  it  would  be  a  wonder  if  he  ever 
regained  it  —  that  for  his  part,  he  would  not 
give  a  pinch  of  snuff  for  a  person  who  had  not 
the  fear  of  God  before  his  eyes  —  that  he  was 
extremely  sorry  to  hear  there  were  some 
students  in  college  who  professed  themselves 
infidels ;    sometimes    he    thought   them   con- 


BISHOP     HOB  ART. 


107 


temptible,  and  at  others,  objects  of  pity  —  that 
he  hoped  I  would  do  well,  and  had  not  a 
doubt,  from  my  conduct  heretofore,  that  I 
would — that  I  must  consider  study  as  the  only 
method  to  be  serviceable  to  myself,  or  others  ; 
and  finally,  that  he  thought  a  person  must  be 
wretched  who  did  not  serve  other  people.' 

/  '  '  .Vei^  -  York,  April  23,  1795. 

My  dearest  John, 

I  know  not  how  to  address  you.  I  am  very  sensi- 
ble of  my  folly  in  coming  on  here ;  but  Mr.  J.  per- 
suaded me  a  little  after  we  left  Princeton,  and  I  pro- 
mised to  come,  without  once  reflecting  on  the  folly  and 
imprudence  of  such  a  thing.  I  pray  you  make  allow- 
ances for  me,  and  don't  be  angry  with  me,  and  write  to 
me,  my  devoted  friend.  I  would  have  written  to  you 
before,  but  I  could  not  get  ink  at  one  time,  and  at 
another  paper,  and  therefore  I  hope  you  will  forgive  me. 
The  more  I  reflect  on  my  conduct,  the  more  I  repent  of 
my  folly.  Manifest,  then,  your  love  to  me,  and  be  not 
offended.  Do,  my  John,  act  now  as  if  I  had  consulted 
you  about  coming,  and  had  taken  leave  of  you  as  I 
should  have  done.  I  shall  write  you  every  day  while 
I  stay,  which  will  be  but  a  very  short  time,  as  I  shall 
return  as  soon  as  decency  will  permit.  With  that 
aflection  which  always  has  and  always  will  warm  my 

breast,  I  remain  your  own 

Robert.' 

From  the  following  it  would  seem,  that  before 
his  return  Mr.  H.  had  quitted  Princeton,  on  a 
visit  to  Philadelphia,  during  the  short  vacation. 


108  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

'  Princeton.  May  blh,  1795. 
My  dear  John's  affectionate  letter  was  reaeived  with 
much  pleasure,  and  restored  to  his  Robert's  breast  much 
happiness.  I  went  to  church  to-day,  and  heard  a  very 
excellent  discourse,  which  concluded  with  a  short  bio- 
graphy of  Dr.  Witherspoon.  Good  old  Mrs.  Knox  has 
got  two  more  boarders;  young  men  from  Jamaica, 
Long-Island.  They  are  acquainted  with  our  Skinner. 
One  of  them  asked  me  if  I  was  not  a  relation  of  his,  I 
was  so  much  like  him.  The  appointment  of  president 
is  not  yet  determined,  or  rather  not  yet  known.  People 
seem  to  have  no  doubt  that  Dr.  Smith  will  be  appointed. 
I  have  heard  that  Dr.  Dwight  and  Mr.  WoodhuU  are 
his  opponents.  I  allow  certain  hours  of  the  day  for 
study,  and  I  suppose  study  altogether  ten  hours.  I 
intend,  if  possible,  to  continue  in  my  resolution  to  study. 
I  have  got  a  curtain  and  keep  it  drawn.  Do  not  forget 
to  give  my  love  to  your  mamma  and  sister,  and  kiss  the 
children  for  your  affectionate 

Robert. 

'  Princeton^  May  Qf/i,  1795. 
My  dearest  John, 

Your  letters  are  indeed  expressive  of  the  liveliest 
affection.  They  constitute  a  chief  part  of  your  Robert's 
happiness.  My  own  dear  friend,  you  cannot  conceive, 
nor  can  language  express,  how  much  I  miss  you 
wherever  I  go  :  it  is  well  you  are  not  always  to  be  from 
me ;  I  should  not  enjoy  much  happiness.  Mrs.  Knox 
is  very  much  pleased  with  her  spectacles.  You  ask  me 
to  inform  you  more  particularly  about  the  young  men 
from  Jamaica  ;  their  names  are  Knight  and  King ;  they 
are  pious  good  young  men.  The  students  are  returning 
fast.     Session  will  commence  on  Monday,  when  I  am  to 


B  I  S  H  0  P     II  OB  ART.  109 

enter  on  a  new  regulation  with  regard  to  study,  and  am 
determined  to  hold,  if  possible,  the  first  standing  in  the 
class.  Scott,  I  expect,  will  be  here  on  Monday;  I  asked 
Mr.  Russell  to  bring  him  with  him.  Your  advice,  my 
dearest  John,  is  sweet  to  me  ;  it  comes  from  your  heart ; 
continue  it  then  ;  I  receive  pleasure,  happiness,  and  joy 
from  it ;  I  will  attend  to  it,  and  by  the  assistance  of 
God,  will  endeavor  to  practise  every  virtue.  Farewell ! 
my  dearest  John  ;  may  God  protect  you ;  may  he  pro- 
tect us  both,  and  preserve  our  friendship  pure  and  lasting. 

Robert.' 

*  Princeton,  May  14f/i,  1795. 
My  dearest  John, 

The  affection  your  letters  convey  endear  you 
strongly  to  me  ;  but  permit  me  to  say,  I  do  not  deserve 
the  half  nor  the  third  of  what  you  give  me.  But  be 
assured,  dear  John,  that  I  am  convinced  of  the  value  of 
time,  and  that  I  do  and  will  employ  it  as  well  as  I  can. 
I  attend  prayers  as  usual,  and  find  very  little  difiiculty 
in  rising  in  the  morning.  Caldwell  read  a  sermon  yes- 
terday in  church,  and  in  the  evening  at  society  I  read 
that  of  Sharpe  "  on  repentance  and  a  better  life."  I  am 
very  much  pleased  with  him.  He  must  have  been  a 
pious  good  man,  and  one  that  had  the  good  of  mankind 
greatly  at  heart.  I  have  read  him  with  much  pleasure 
and  attention.  But  I  have  much  to  answer  for  at  the 
bar  of  God,  more  than  I  am  able  to  bear.  A  Saviour 
offers  assistance:  O  that  God  would  enable  me  to 
accept ;  that  he  would  change  my  heart,  and  receive  it 
to  himself.  I  will  pray  for  pardon  from  him  —  I  will 
endeavor  by  my  future  conduct  to  promote  his  honor 
and  glory,  and  the  happiness  of  my  own  soul.  Your 
instructions,  my  dear  John,  are  such  as  merit  strict 


no  MEMOIR     OF 

attention,  and  by  the  assistance  of  God  I  will  endeavor 
to  put  them  in  practice.  Continue  them,  my  dear  friend, 
they  strengthen  me  in  my  desire  to  follow  the  path  of 
righteousness. 

Scott  has  returned.  You  had  better  write  him.  On 
Monday  evening  last  the  college  was  illuminated,  and 
the  cannon  fired,  as  a  testimony  of  the  pleasure  the  stu- 
dents received  from  the  appointment  of  Dr.  Smith,  who 
delivered  them  his  thanks  the  evening  following  in 
the  hall,  with  an  exhortation  to  study  and  improve 
their  time.  I  have  got  to  the  bottom  of  my  paper  too 
soon.  I  wished  to  say  much  more,  but  shall  not  forget 
to  sign  myself  your  most  devoted  friend, 

R.  M.  Forsyth.' 

'Princeton,  September  8th,  1795. 
My  dearest  Friend, 

Your  affectionate  letter  of  yesterday  reached  me  in 
the  usual  time.  It  was,  as  all  your  letters,  clothed  in 
language  which  conveyed  to  me  the  sentiments  of  your 
heart.  My  dearest  friend,  your  advice  is  admirable. 
Let  us,  as  you  say,  look  up  to  God  as  our  father  and 
our  friend,  and  receive  the  consolations  which  religion 
pours  in.  It  is  that  alone  which  can  render  us  happy, 
6oth  here  and  hereafter.  Were  we  to  depend  on  the 
happiness  afforded  us  in  this  life,  we  should  be  continu- 
ally suffering  disappointments  and  afflictions.  But  when 
resigned  to  the  dispensations  of  Providence,  when  we 
have  a  just  sense  of  his  goodness,  and  all-seeing  eye,  all 
the  anxieties  and  cares  of  this  world  may  be  wiped 
away.  We  will  then  be  enabled  to  bear  up  under  every 
affliction,  and  to  account  the  greatest  misfortunes  as  the 
order  of  Providence,  and  essential  to  our  own  good.  By 
these  means,  if  ever  deprived  of  any  beloved  object,  by 


BI  SHO  P     HOB  ART.  Ill 

reflecting  who  gave  us  all  things,  we  will  be  content 
and  patiently  submit. 

Tell  me  whether  you  are  of  opinion  I  ought  to  com- 
pete, and  what  on.  I  practise  your  advice  with  regard 
to  my  speech,  and  will  propose  to  the  other  members  to 
meet  and  speak  our  pieces  to  each  other  frequently. 
The  Society  passed  an  order  last  evening  for  a  new 
carpet,  and  Cantine  was  directed  to  write,  send  the 
money,  and  leave  the  choice  to  you.  The  Society 
expect  it  will  be  made  up  for  the  meeting  of  the  gradu- 
ates at  Commencement,  and  you  must  therefore  have  it 
here  time  enough  for  that  purpose. 

I  am  happy  to  hear  that  you  have  the  offer  of  the 
tutorship,  and  I  hope  you  will  accept  of  it,  as  enabling 
you  to  get  an  accurate  knowledge  of  the  languages, 
which  you  wish,  and  also  have  it  in  your  power  to 
inspect,  more  particularly,  your  Robert's  conduct,  and 
assist  him  to  amend  it.  Write  me  often,  my  dear  John ; 
your  letters  afford  me  inexpressible  satisfaction.  Con- 
tinue that  advice  which  is  so  good  and  so  parental. 
My  dear  Hobart,  you  are  a  kind  and  valuable  friend  ; 
few  are  there  so  blessed  as  I  am  in  respect  to  friend- 
ship.* 

I  am  very  much  concerned  about  my  oration. 
Mamma's  business  has  unavoidably  delayed  me.  I 
depend  upon  you,  my  John,  for  a  speech.  If  you 
cannot  get  Mr.  Abeel's,  you  must  write  me  one.  It 
will  be  giving  you  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  but  I  know 

♦  The  conclusion  of  this  letter,  though  opening  up  somewhat 
of  college  secrets,  is  yet  so  much  to  the  point  of  young  Hobart's 
character,  that  it  may  not  be  omitted.  Besides,  these  things  are 
no  doubt  better  ordered  now  among  the  students  of  Nassau 
Hall.— Ed. 


112  MEMOI  R     OF 

it  will  be  readily  undergone  to  ease  your  Robert  of  a 
very  heavy  burden.  If  you  have  not  time  to  write  one, 
get  some  good  speech  for  me,  and  write  the  addresses. 
Perhaps  the  one  "  on  the  Discovery  of  America,"  will  be 
as  good  a  one  as  we  can  get.  I  must  now  conclude, 
with  entreating  my  Hobart  to  take  care  of  himself,  and 
in  so  doing  to  take  care  of  me. 

In  every  situation,  whether  adverse  or  fortunate,  I 
shall  never  forget  to  subscribe  myself,  what  I  really  am, 
my  Hobart's  dearest  friend, 

Robert  M.  Forsyth.' 

c 

The  editor  is  tempted  here  to  add  another 
letter  of  this  amiable  young-  man,  which  he 
found  among  the  papers  of  one  yet  dearer  to 
him  than  the  subject  of  the  present  biography. 
It  was  addressed  to  one,  who  at  the  early  age 
of  ten  years,  had  conveyed  to  him  the  simple- 
hearted  expression  of  her  pure  regards.  It  is 
dated  but  a  few  weeks  previous  to  his  death, 
and  will  serve  at  least  to  show  into  what  tone 
of  character  he  was  then  ripening. 

Auffusta,  April  6th,  1797. 
My  dear  young  friend's  affectionate  and  acceptable 
favor  was  handed  me  a  few  days  ago.  To  be  thought 
worthy  the  esteem  of  any  person,  affords  me  great 
satisfaction.  But  when  one  for  whom  I  feel  a  greater 
regard  than  I  can  express,  honors  me  with  her  friend- 
ship, my  heart  overflows  with  the  warmest  gratitude. 
Believe  me,  dear  Eliza,  your  letter  excited  indescribable 
sensations  ;  the  image  of  its  author,  virtuous,  amiable, 


B  1  S  11  0  P     H  O  B  A  R  T.  113 

and  ripening  to  perfection,  darted  across  my  mind,  and 
I  anticipated  with  the  greatest  pleasure  the  time  when 
she  would  be  enjoying  the  rich  harvest  of  her  early 
labors. 

Happy  indeed  was  I  to  hear  that  you  were  improving 
yourself  assiduously.  Continue  to  do  so,  and  you  will 
always  command  the  esteem  and  admiration  of  every 
good  and  virtuous  mind. 

The  affectionate  advice  of  your  estimable  mother 
renders  all  other  superfluous.  But  in  all  your  engage- 
ments, dear  Eliza,  forget  not  the  great  Author  of  your 
being.  Then  will  you  enjoy  in  this  life  uninterrupted 
pleasure,  and  in  the  world  to  come  everlasting  joy. 
The  agreeable  evenings  I  spent  with  you  and  your 
cousin  Edmund,  will  always  be  remembered  by  me 
with  delight.  My  attention  to  you  is  not  entitled  to 
any  of  your  gratitude,  for  I  can  assure  you  I  was  more 
than  rewarded  by  the  pleasure  I  received.  Be  so  kind 
as  to  remember  me  with  affection  to  your  mother,  and 
accept  for  yourself  the  sincere  and  lasting  esteem  of 
your  affectionate  friend, 

Robert  M.  Forsyth.' 

The  following  letters  were  called  forth  by 
the  news  of  his  death  shortly  after. 

'  Princeton,  August  24th,  1797. 
John  Y.  Noel,  Esq.,  Savannah. 

Sir, — Will  you  pardon  the  liberty  a  stranger  takes 
in  forcing  himself  upon  your  notice,  and  requesting  a 
favor  from  you.  The  close  friendship  I  formed  at  this 
place  with  the  deceased  R.  M.  Forsyth,  deeply  interests 
me  in  whatever  relates  to  him.    From  the  great  distress 


114  MEMOIR     OF 

of  his  family  at  Augusta,  ihe  letters  as  yet  received 
from  thence  contain  no  particulars  of  his  last  illness 
and  death.  In  his  correspondence  with  me,  he  informed 
me  that  he  studied  law  in  your  office,  and  resided  in 
your  family,  I  am  led  to  conclude,  therefore,  that  you 
were  the  witness  of  his  illness,  and  last  moments.  You 
will  much  alleviate  the  sorrow  of  afflicted  friendship, 
if  you  will  communicate  to  me  particular  information 
of  his  last  sickness  and  death,  and  whatever  else  you 
may  think  interesting.  The  sensibility  I  feel  relative 
to  the  most  minute  circumstances  relating  to  him,  must 
be  my  apology  for  requesting  you  to  undertake  this 
melancholy  office.  My  knowledge  of  the  kindness  you 
have  uniformly  shown  him,  induces  me  to  rely  on  the 
goodness  of  your  heart  for  a  compliance  with  my 
request,  and  be  assured  that  it  will  be  considered  as  a 
favor  which  will  increase  the  respect  and  regard  I  shall 
cherish  for  the  kind  patron  of  my  deceased  friend. 
I  am,  Sir,  very  respectfully,  your  obedient  servant, 

John  H.  Hobart.' 

'  Princeton,  August  18th,  1797. 

My  dear  sister  has  no  doubt  seen  from  the  paper, 
that  her  brother  is  called  to  another  trial.  He  has 
again  lost  the  object  of  a  sincere  and  ardent  affection. 
It  seems  as  if  I  love  with  tenderness  only  to  be  made 
miserable  by  the  loss  of  those  I  love.  But  my  idols  are 
taken  from  me.  I  am  taught  that  this  is  not  my  home 
—  that  here  are  not  my  joys.  Oh,  if  you  knew  with 
what  tenderness  and  fidelity  I  have  loved  and  been 
loved,  however  enthusiastic  my  language  might  be,  you 
would  judge  it  to  be  sincere.  I  have  received  from 
those  here,  who  knew  my  affection  for  Forsyth,  every 


B  I  S  H  0  P     H  O  B  A  R  T.  115 

attention  and  kindness.  If  it  should  please  Providence 
to  give  me  resignation  to  his  will,  and  to  save  me  from 
depression  of  spirits,  I  feel  inclined,  with  greater  zeal 
than  ever,  to  perform  the  duties  of  life,  and  while  I  am 
mindful  of  the  uncertainty  of  its  rational  pleasures,  to 
receive  and  enjoy  them  with  humble  thankfulness. 
Happy  indeed  should  I  be,  under  every  loss,  however 
severe,  that  I  have  still  affectionate  relations  to  whom 
I  owe  so  much. 

Your  afflicted  brother, 

J.  H.  HOBART." 

'  Frankford  Hill,  August  22d,  1797. 
You  judge  well,  my  dear  brother,  in  assuring  yourself 
of  the  entire  sympathy  of  my  heart  in  your  present 
afflictive  trial.  I  am  sensible  that  the  participation  of 
grief,  though  soothing  to  the  soul,  avails  little  to  lighten 
the  weight  of  the  blow.  I  need  not  present  to  you 
those  motives  of  consolation  which  your  own  well- 
grounded  piety  will  suggest,  nor  will  it  lessen  the  pangs 
of  a  heart  like  yours,  to  point  out  the  grief  which  the 
unhappy  mother  of  your  deceased  friend  must  experi- 
ence ;  the  first,  when  the  burst  of  sorrow  has  subsided, 
■will  bring  the  consolation  it  never  fails  to  impart,  and 
the  other  consideration  will  be  a  spring  of  exertion  to 
your  own  soul,  to  enable  you  to  offer  a  support  and 
comfort  to  hers.  And  I  would  entreat  you,  for  the  sake 
of  your  own  dear  parent,  and  those  friends  who  tenderly 
love  you,  not  to  yield  to  that  depression  of  spirits  of 
which  you  speak ;  exert  every  faculty  of  your  soul 
against  that  cruel  languor  into  which  it  will  sink  you 
—  that  death  to  usefulness  and  active  virtue.  Alas! 
even  in  its  happiest  state,  how  many  trials  does  this 
probationary  being  present  to  us,  which  nothing  but  an 


116  MEMOIR     OF 

early  acquired  fortitude,  the  result  ol'  a  rational  and 
well-grounded  hope  of  a  better  life,  can  enable  us  to 
support.  Let  this,  my  dear  brother,  while  it  teaches 
you  resignation,  temper  the  fervor  and  ardency  of  those 
affections  which,  however  amiable  in  themselves,  will 
embitter  too  much  your  passing  days,  unless  calmed  by 
the  full  persuasion  that  they  extend  beyond  the  grave. 
They  were  given  us  by  the  eternal  Author  of  our  being, 
as  sources  of  enjoyment  and  not  misery,  while  Ave  look 
for  their  full  fruition  only  in  a  more  exalted  state  of 
existence. 

Ever  your  sympathizing  sister, 

R.  Smith.' 

'Princeton,  September  Sd,  1797. 
How  shall  I  thank  my  dear  sister  for  that  affectionate 
sympathy  and  consolation  which  have  contributed  to 
restore  peace  -to  my  mind.  True,  indeed,  the  participa- 
tion of  grief  will  not  remove  the  heavy  load,  but  the 
feeling  heart  that  has  itself  been  wounded,  can  speak 
with  a  tenderness  that  assuages  the  poignancy  of  sor- 
row, and  is  able  to  offer  those  bright  hopes  which  were 
its  own  comfort  and  support.  O,  my  sister,  miserable 
indeed  are  those  whom  Heaven  has  gifted  with  sensi- 
bility, if  death  is  to  tear  from  them  for  ever  the  objects 
of  their  ardent  and  virtuous  affection.  If  sensibility  be 
not  a  crime,  why  should  it  be  made  our  misery ;  and 
oh,  what  misery  can  be  greater  than  that  which  accom- 
panies the  thought  that  we  have  parted  for  ever  from 
those  whom  we  love  as  our  own  souls.  If  this  destiny 
awaits  congenial  spirits,  whose  hopes  and  enjoyments 
have  here  been  bound  together  by  mutual  affection, 
enviable  must  appear  to  them  the  lot  of  the  brutes,  who 


BI  S  H  OP     II  OB  ART.  117 

live  without  feeling  and  without  hope.  No,  God  who 
is  love,  eternal  love,  has  not  meant  thus  to  sport  with 
his  creatures.  He  has  given  us  virtuous  feelings  to  be 
indulged,  and  he  separates  from  us  the  objects  of  our 
affection  only,  that  being  less  bound  to  this  world  we 
may  love  it  less,  and  aspire  more  constantly  after 
another,  where  we  look  for  the  full  and  perfect  fruition 
of  every  virtuous  feeling. 

How  precious  in  this  light  is  the  hope  of  immortality 
—  to  the  wounded  spirit  what  a  balm  does  it  apply. 
The  resurrection  of  these  frail  and  corruptible  bodies 
to  purity  and  glory  becomes  a  truth  consoling  indeed, 
when  we  consider  that  in  this  perfect  state  we  shall  be 
reunited  to  those  whom  we  have  loved,  in  an  indisso- 
luble bond.  Well  might  the  Apostle  in  offering  this 
truth  to  our  faith  say,  "  Comfort  ye  one  another  with 
these  words."  Founded  on  this  basis,  my  soul  is  at 
peace.  Calm  in  the  assurance  that  God  is  love,  and 
seeks  to  conduct  us  by  chastisement  as  well  as  mercy 
to  his  gracious  favor  and  to  an  eternal  rest,  the  gloomy 
prospect  of  life  brightens  for  me,  and  even  the  dark 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  is  enlivened  by  hope. 

It  has  not  been  indeed  without  many  doubts,  and 
much  anxiety,  that  my  mind  has  become  settled.  I 
have  been  fearful  that  particular  attachments  strong  as 
mine,  were  inconsistent  with  a  sincere  love  to  God,  and 
therefore  wrong;  at  the  same  time  I  felt  they  were 
deeply  seated  in  my  breast,  and  that  my  happiness  was 
connected  with  their  indulgence.  But  is  not  this  an 
erroneous  view  of  the  perfections  of  God?  Infinite  in 
love  and  goodness,  he  has  made  us  to  be  happy,  and 
whatever  contributes  really  to  our  happiness  must  be 
pleasing  to  him.     The  virtue,  tenderness,  and  goodness 


118  ,  MEMOIR     OF 

which  excite  sincere  friendship,  are  his  image  in  the 
soul,  and  therefore  to  love  the  creature  is  to  love  the 
adorable  Creator.  It  is  only  a  false  love  for  the  world, 
its  honors  and  pleasures  —  it  is  only  such  an  attachment 
to  the  creature  as  corrupts,  instead  of  cherishing  our 
virtuous  feelings,  that  his  holy  law  condemns.  Or 
when  virtuous  affection  fixes  too  fondly  on  its  object, 
where  it  becomes  so  immoderate  as  to  destroy  our  peace, 
or  to  make  this  life  a  place  of  rcAvard  instead  of  proba- 
tion, and  induces  us  to  say  with  the  disciples,  "It  is 
good  for  us  to  be  here ;  "  then  a  gracious  Parent  pities 
the  weakness  of  his  children ;  then  by  his  merciful  cor- 
rection he  leads  them  back  to  duty,  and  reminds  them 
that  they  are  to  "  live  by  faith ; "  faith  in  his  goodness  ' 
and  wisdom,  faith  in  his  power  and  truth,  who  has 
promised  a  blessed  and  eternal  inheritance  beyond  the 
grave.  Yes,  I  feel  that  such  views  exalt  and  purify  the 
soul,  and  fix  it  more  firmly  on  the  Divine  faith  and  love. 
They  bind  it  to  God,  thus  infinite  in  goodness  ;  they 
endear  to  it  the  gracious  Redeemer,  who  by  his  suffer- 
ings and  death  has  purchased  for  us  eternal  life,  and 
opened  the  prospect  of  that  full  perfection  of  being 
which  alone  sheds  consolation  on  this  vale  of  tears.  O 
if  I  could  always  have  these  bright  views,  how  could  I 
enjoy  the  world,  and  yet  live  above  it;  with  what 
resignation  and  cheerfulness  would  I  pass  through  my 
pilgrimage,  be  it  long  or  short ! 

My  dear  sister,  your  affectionate  brother, 

J.  H.  HoBART.' 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  romantic 
fervor  of  this  attachment,  none  can  deny  that 
it  called  forth  emotions  in  the  heart  of  the 


B  I  S  HOP     H  O  B  ART.  119 

survivor,  that  made  it  to  him  a  noble  and  pure 
discipline  ;  nor  would  it  be  easy  to  find  either 
in  old  or  young,  such  emotions  expressed  with 
more  truth  and  beauty.  Two  further  letters 
remain  to  complete  this  interesting  but  painful 
picture  ;  they  are  from  the  widowed  and  all 
but  childless  mother. 

*  Augusta,  August  '^JOth,  1797. 

It  is  to  the  beloved  friend  of  my  dear  departed  Robert 
that  I  now  address  myself  It  is  in  answer  to  an  affec- 
tionate and  consoling  letter,  dated  September  25thj  and 
also  to  apologize  for  not  replying  to  one  of  a  former  date, 
which  was  received  with  a  melancholy  but  affectionate 
satisfaction.  Your  known  goodness  and  sympathy  of 
heart  will,  I  know,  excuse  me  for  this  omission,  when 
I  assure  you  it  was  from  a  desire  of  saving  you  pain  as 
well  as  myself 

It  is  not  for  me  to  judge  what  is  right  in  the  sight  of 
our  heavenly  Father,  and  I  do  not  pretend  to  say  but 
that  I  have  suffered  and  still  feel  my  loss,  as  an  affec- 
tionate mother  and  frail  mortal.  But  so  far  as  my 
strength  of  faith  is  that  he  is  happy,  and  that  through 
the  sufferings  of  our  dear  Redeemer  we  shall  be  made 
pure  and  fit  for  immortal  bliss,  and  in  God's  good  time 
be  called  to  join  his  happy  spirit,  I  am  comforted  and 
supported.  That  he  has  paid  the  debt  of  nature  we 
must  all  discharge,  before  we  can  be  admitted  into  the 
presence  of  a  good  and  gracious  God,  and  that  at  no 
time  he  would  have  been  better  able  to  give  an  account 
of  the  talents  committed  to  his  care  than  at  the  hour  it 
was  God's  blessed  will  to  call  him,  and  that  I  know  and 


120  MEMOIR     OF 

believe  he  had  acted  his  part  as  a  true  believer ;  —  when 
I  think  on  all  this,  I  am  almost  ready  to  cry  out  with 
acclamations  of  joy,  thanksgiving,  and  praise  to  the 
great  and  glorious  Lord  of  all,  that  he  has  been  pleased 
to  take  him  to  himself.  When  I  consider  the  change 
for  his  good,  I  am  perfectly  resigned ;  and  I  wait  with 
anxious  solicitude  God's  appointed  time,  when  I  shall  be 
permitted  to  join  the  happy  spirits  of  my  dear  departed 
friends. 

Do  not,  my  dear  Hobart,  believe  that  I  would  do  any 
thing  or  omit  a  duty  toward  preserving  a  life  that  I 
consider  as  the  gift  of  our  heavenly  Father ;  no,  believe 
me,  it  is  foreign  from  the  idea  I  have  of  submission  to 
the  decrees  of  the  Supreme  Ruler  of  the  universe.  My 
life  is  preserved  for  somewise  purpose,  I  have  no  doubt, 
and  when  that  purpose  is  fulfilled,  I  shall,  I  trust,  be 
made  a  fit  partaker  of  the  heavenly  feast.  Oh  how 
happy,  how  superlatively  happy,  I  shall  be ;  and  that 
you,  my  good  and  amiable  Hobart,  be  permitted  a  seat 
in  God's  most  holy  and  happy  abode,  to  join  in  hymns 
of  praise  to  his  glory,  honor,  and  majesty,  for  ever  and 
ever,  is  the  ardent  prayer  of  your  departed  Robert's 
affectionate  mother. 

Let  me  now,  my  friend,  address  you  on  the  subject  of 
my  surviving  and  beloved  son,  my  dear  Johnny.  You 
tell  me  he  is  well,  and  that  he  has  undergone  an  excel- 
lent examination.  This  to  a  mother,  whose  sole  hope 
he  is,  was  very  pleasing  information ;  and  although  my 
anxiety  to  see  him  surpasses  expression,  I  will,  as  you 
request,  and  as  I  had  myself  determined  before  I  got 
your  letter,  deny  myself  the  pleasure  and  happiness  of 
his  society  for  this  winter ;  but  in  the  ensuing  summer, 


BISHOP     HOBART.  121 

if  I  am  so  permitted  by  the  wise  decrees  of  Almighty- 
Goodness,  I  promise  myself  the  favor  of  his  and  your 
society  for  a  short  time,  for  I  do  not  intend  to  interrupt 
his  studies. 

Your  beloved  Robert  was  born  the  2d  April,  1780, 
and  departed  this  life  26th  July,  1797:  for  the  particu- 
lars of  his  death  I  must  refer  you  to  Mr.  Noel ;  the 
revival  of  it  creates  in  my  breast  inexpressible  sensa- 
tions, which  my  duty  compels  me,  if  possible,  to  sup- 
press. He  is  gone ;  my  beloved  darling  Robert  is  gone 
to  everlasting  peace  and  rest.  Cherish,  my  Hobart,  an 
affection  for  his  family,  and  they  will,  I  hope,  endeavor 
to  merit  it. 

Mrs.  Armstrong,  a  beloved  sister,  joins  me  in  affec- 
tionate wishes  for  your  health  and  happiness.  Please 
tender  my  respects  to  your  amiable  mamma  and  sister, 
and  embrace  with  affection  for  me  little  Robert  (Smith.) 
I  need  not  assure  you,  my  Hobart,  it  will  always  afford 
me  the  highest  satisfaction  to  hear  from  you.  My  heart 
inclines  to  love  you  like  my  Robert. 

Your  sincerely  affectionate, 

Fanny  Forsyth.' 

^Augusta,  January  I3th,  1798. 
Dear  Hobart, 

I  often  call  to  mind  the  evening  you  were  with  my 
beloved  Robert  in  my  room  at  Princeton,  and  think  it 
was  too  much  happiness  for  a  mortal  long  to  enjoy,  to 
behold  a  son,  who  was  all  a  fond  mother  could  wish, 
embraced  by  an  amiable  and  beloved  friend.  O  my 
Hobart,  what  would  such  a  sight  now  afford  me  !  But 
alas !  vain  thought :  it  is  as  impossible  as  the  desire  is 
6 


1-22 


MEMOIR     OF 


inconsistent  with  the  true  principles  of  a  Christian. 
No,  let  mc  not  look  for  such  happiness  again  in  a  state 
of  mortality,  but  rather  let  me  expect  from  an  endless 
eternity  that  reward  our  dear  Redeemer  has  so  wonder- 
fully and  bountifully  purchased  for  us. 

Oh,  my  friend,  the  struggles  of  a  mother's  heart  are 
not  yet  subdued.  I  would  not,  however,  have  you  think 
that  they  proceed  from  murmuring  against  the  decrees 
of  Providence.  No,  far  from  it :  it  is  the  struggles  of 
nature  for  a  darling  son  ;  not  that  depression  of  grief  I 
have  heard  some  express,  but  an  animated  desire  to  be 
with  him  in  a  state  of  true  happiness.  I  feel  the  neces- 
sity of  a  humble,  patient  submission  to  Almighty  great- 
ness and  goodness,  and  acknowledge  whatever  He 
decrees,  though  not  permitted  to  know  from  what 
motive ;  yet  whatever  that  decree  is,  it  must  be  right. 
Under  this  impression,  and  a  steadfast  hope  and  trust 
in  God's  mercy,  I  look  forward  for  the  glorious  reward, 
through  our  blessed  and  suffering  Saviour,  in  the  realms 
of  everlasting  happiness,  there  to  join  the  spirits  divine 
in  singing  hymns  of  praise  to  his  adored  name  for  ever. 
Amen. 

This  is  the  third  time  I  have  attempted  to  write  you 
since  the  receipt  of  your  last,  and  this  is  so  blotted  that 
I  fear  you  will  not  be  able  to  make  sense  out  of  it.  My 
spirits  are  much  cheered  with  the  favorable  account  you 
give  me  of  my  only  darling  son  John :  I  hope  he  may 
continue  to  give  satisfaction,  and  merit  the  approbation 
of  the  worthy  :  he  is  dear  to  me,  doubly  so  now. 

You  will  oblige  me  by  sending  a  copy  of  the  inscrip- 
tion you  had  engraved  on  the  tomb-stone  :  I  shall  read 
it  with  a  melancholy  but  pleasing  satisfaction.     Fare- 


B  I  S  II  0  P     H  O  B  A  R  T.  123 

well,  my  friend  ;  may  you  be  happy,  is  the  sincere  wish 
of  your  departed  Robert's  affectionate  mother, 

Fanny  Forsyth.' 

The  monumental  inscription  here  alluded 
to  is  not  found  among  the  papers  of  Bishop 
Hobart ;  but  the  following  obituary  notice  from 
the  same  pen  is  preserved,  as  published  in  the 
New- York  '  Minerva.'  It  is  worthy  of  insertion 
as  a  fair  specimen  of  youthful  talent,  and  still 
more  worthy  of  record  as  showing  that  his 
Christian  admonitions  had  not  been  fruitless. 

'  Died,  —  On  the  26th  July,  at  Savannah,  in  the 
18th  year  of  his  age,  Mr.  Robert  M.  Forsyth,  eldest 
son  of  the  late  Major  Forsyth,  Marshal  of  the  State  of 
Georgia. 

In  this  amiable  young  man  were  centered,  in  an 
eminent  degree,  those  talents  and  virtues  that  excite 
respect  and  affection.  A  genius  aspiring,  correct,  and 
capacious,  was  united  with  a  heart  feeling,  affectionate, 
and  benevolent. 

Deprived,  when  only  fourteen,  by  a  particular  act  of 
Providence,  of  a  beloved  father,  he  rose  to  the  trying 
duties  of  his  situation  ;  and  his  most  ardent  wish  was 
to  pour  consolation  into  the  bosom  of  a  widowed  parent, 
and  to  watch  witli  paternal  solicitude  over  a  young  and 
only  brother.  Under  the  influence  of  these  motives,  he 
left  home  soon  after  the  decease  of  his  father,  and  com- 
menced his  studies  at  the  college  at  Princeton.  Here 
his  youthful  mind,  opening  with  delight  to  instruction, 
comprehended  even  the  highest  and  most  abstruse  prin- 


124  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

ciples  of  science  with  unusual  ease  and  accuracy.  His 
talent  for  an  eloquence  that  at  once  roused  and  melted 
the  heart,  was  displayed  on  many  public  exhibitions  at 
the  college  ;  but  the  most  lively  tribute  was  paid  to  its 
excellence  by  the  tears  and  sympathy  of  a  numerous 
audience  on  his  pronouncing  the  valedictory  oration  at 
the  last  Commencement. 

Noble  and  generous  in  his  sentiments,  ardent  and 
faithful  in  his  attachments,  manly  and  graceful  in  his 
deportment,  with  a  countenance  that,  speaking  the 
energies  of  his  soul,  beamed  with  intelligence  and 
feeling,  he  was  admired  and  beloved  by  all  who  knew 
him.  His  soul  was  exalted  by  the  exercises  and  hopes 
of  religion.  He  embraced  the  glorious  truths  of  the 
Gospel  with  a  lively  and  rational  faith,  and  made  them 
his  trust  and  his  joy. 

Thus  in  the  prospect  of  discharging  the  duties  of 
life  with  zeal  and  credit,  and  becoming  an  ornament 
to  society,  he  was  torn  by  an  untimely  death  from  the 
bosom  of  friendship.  That  Being  who  placed  him  in 
this  state  of  trial,  has  in  infinite  wisdom  closed  his 
short  pilgrimage  and  received  him  to  a  rest  eternal  in 
the  heavens. 

J.  H.  H.' 

The  only  other  letter  that  appears  from  this 
disconsolate  mother,  is  of  a  date  near  two  years 
after.     It  thus  concludes  : 

'  I  thank  you  for  the  spectacles  ;  they  will  be  in 
demand  this  winter ;  my  eyes  begin  to  grow  too  weak 
to  read  much  at  night,  but  with  their  assistance  I  hope 
to  be  much  edified  by  the  perusal  of  some  pious  authors 


BISHOP     HOBART.  125 

which  I  have  left  me  as  the  legacy  of  a  beloved  son. 
They  will  be  read  with  the  more  attention,  knowing 
them  to  be  Avhat  he  greatly  valued.  John  informs  me 
you  have  removed  from  Mr.  Smith's :  I  hope  it  will 
be  productive  of  as  much  happiness  to  you  as  the 
uncertain  things  of  this  w^orld  will  admit ;  for  real 
happiness  is  not  to  be  found  on  this  side  the  grave, 
and  they  are  unwise  who  expect  it. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Hobart,   with  great  sincerity, 
your  affectionate  friend,  Fanny  Forsyth.' 

It  is  consolatory  to  learn  that  the  younger 
son  thus  left  alone,  as  he  succeeded  to  the 
virtues,  so  also  did  he  to  the  affections  of  his 
brother  in  the  heart  of  his  friend,  though  dif- 
ference of  age  here  gave  it  more  of  a  paternal 
character.  If  we  may  judge,  however,  from 
the  following,  his  virtues  were  not  without  a 
tinge  of  indolence,  although  for  the  specific 
instance  he  might,  doubtless,  have  pleaded  an 
elder  brother's  example. 

'  Princeton,  Thursday  evening. 
My  dear  Hobart, 

Our  friend  Mercer  when  he  left  this  engaged  to 
ask  you  in  my  name  to  write  an  oration  for  the  night 
before  Commencement.  The  presence  of  my  dearest 
mother,  and  the  time  I  was  called  from  my  studies  on 
that  account,  prevented  me  from  preparing  as  well  as  I 
could  wish,  and  as  the  examination  fast  approaches, 
I  would  like  to  have  my  oration  as  soon  as  possible. 
If  you  determine  to  write  me  one,  and  if  you  can  pos- 
sibly make  it  convenient,  I  wish  you  would  send  it  up 


l-2l>  M  E  M  O  I  R     0  F 

next  week.  If  you  have  not  time  to  write  one,  you 
will  gratify  me  by  writing  up  immediately,  and  recom- 
mending me  to  one  which  you  think  will  suit. 

If  it  were  not  my  OAvn  fault,  I  would  scold  you  for 
not  writing  me  often,  but  as  it  is  owing  to  my  own 
carelessness  I  cannot  complain.  I  however  promise  to 
write  frequently,  provided  you  will  set  me  the  example. 
Nothing,  believe  me,  gives  me  more  pleasure  than  to 
read  your  letters,  and  the  good  advice  contained  in 
them.  You,  my  dear  Hobart,  know  my  disposition,  and 
must  therefore  make  allowance  for  my  carelessness. 

Adieu,  my  dear  Hobart,  I  shall  expect  to  see  you  here 
this  Commencement. 

Your  affectionate 

John  Forsyth. 

But  although  the  writer  on  this  occasion 
forgot  his  Commencement  speech,  he  never 
forgot  his  early  friend.  Years  after,  amid  the 
turmoil  of  public  life,  the  Hon.  John  Forsyth 
thus  writes  from  Washington  in  answer  to  a 
letter  of  Bishop  Hobart's  :  '  It  is  now,  I  believe, 
near  ten  years  since  I  heard  from  you,  although 
during  that  period  I  have  been  fortunate 
enough  to  hear  much  of  you.  The  sight  of 
your  hand-writing  excited  in  me  a  variety  of 
emotions,  among  the  strongest  of  which  was 
gratitude  for  the  kindness  I  had  received  from 
you  in  early  life.'  Of  another  early  friend, 
who  had  in  some  degree  supplied  to  young 
Hobart  his  brother's  loss,  the  same  letter  gives 


ft 
BISHOP     H  O  B  A  R  T.  127 

this  spirited  picture  :  *  I  saw  Mercer  on  my 
way  to  the  city  of  Washington  ;  he  is  in  excel- 
lent health  and  spirits,  full  of  hfe,  and  hope, 
and  generous  ambition.' 


'  CHAPTER  VI. 

Family  Letters — Sickness — Eiarly  Friends — Robertson — Grant — Scott. 

But  it  is  due  to  young  Hohart,  by  the  inser- 
tion of  some  other  parts  of  his  youthful  corres- 
pondence, to  show  that  no  romantic  friendship 
made  him  forgetful  of  nearer  objects  of  affec- 
tion, and  the  more  serious  duties  of  life.  They 
carry  back  the  reader,  however,  to  a  some- 
what earlier  date,  and  will  bring  again  before 
him  the  painful  story  of  severed  friendship. 

'  Frankfort,  10th  July,  1794. 

My  dear  John  will  be  pleased  to  hear  we  are  all  well 
here.  I  always  thought  this  a  delightful  place,  but 
find  it  beyond  comparison  more  agreeable  than  ever. 
Mr.  Smith  seems  happy  to  see  every  one  pleased,  and  I 
am  sure  I  liave  every  reason  to  be  satisfied  with  my 
situation.  It  gives  me  much  pleasure  to  find  you  also 
are  so  agreeably  situated  with  regard  to  your  studies, 
but  wish  you  in  your  attention  to  them  to  have  regard 
to  your  health,  by  using  proper  exercise  and  relaxation, 
and  not  to  deny  yourself  any  reasonable  and  necessary 
refreshment  that  may  be  convenient. 


123  MEMOIROF 

I  have  no  doubt  of  your  economy,  or  the  prudence  of 
\ro\ix  conduct  in  every  respect,  and  shall,  therefore,  with 
willingness  for  what  depends  on  me,  exert  myself  to 
contribute  as  far  as  in  my  power  to  your  improvement. 
The  children  grow  charmingly ;  little  Anna  particularly 
is  very  sweet  and  lovely  —  sweeter  than  you  can  con- 
ceive. Robert  would  be  so  too  if  he  would  let  one  love 
him.  Mr.  S.  and  your  sister  join  in  love  to  you,  with, 
my  dear  John, 

Your  affectionate  mother, 

^  H.  HOBART.' 

The  call  upon  the  militia  to  march  against 
the  western  insurgents  in  what  was  then  fami- 
liarly known  as  the  whiskey  rebellion,  became 
soon  after  this  a  new  source  of  anxiety  to  his 
mother.  Her  son-in-law  had  actually  gone 
forth,  her  eldest  son  was  called  upon,  and  she 
feared  for  her  youngest,  the  '  Benjamin '  of 
her  declining  age. 

'  Philadelphia,  I5th  September,  1794. 
My  mind  is  so  agitated  that  I  can  scarce  compose 
myself  enough  to  write  a  line  to  my  dear  John,  to  tell 
you  I  want  greatly  to  hear  from  you.  I  expect  you  are 
much  engaged,  and  therefore  would  not  wish  you  to 
take  more  time  than  for  a  few  lines  to  inform  me  how 
you  are,  and  whether  there  is  any  danger  of  you  or  any 
of  the  students  of  the  college  at  Princeton  being  called 
out  on  military  duty.  Our  city  at  this  time  seems  to 
me  to  exhibit  entirely  a  scene  of  confusion ;  the  noise 
of  drums  and  fifes  almost  incessantly  sounding  in  one's 


BISHOP     HOBART.  129 

ears,  and  the  numbers  in  military  array  continually 
passing  in  every  direction,  excite  in  me  no  very  pleas- 
ing reflections.  Mr.  Smith  goes  out  to  the  camp  with 
the  horse  on  Wednesday.  Your  sister  has  been  much 
distressed  ;  but  Mr.  S.  encourages  her  to  hope  that  they 
will  not  have  to  go  far,  but  that  the  insurgents  will 
submit  Avhen  they  find  a  force  coming  against  them. 
This  hope  at  present  keeps  up  her  spirits  in  a  degree, 
but  I  fear  it  will  prove  a  fallacious  opinion.  I  am 
entirely  uncertain  whether  your  brother  goes  or  not ; 
when  he  was  with  us  at  Frankfort,  he  said  he 
would  not  go.  I  am  so  terrified  when  I  think  he  may 
be  persuaded  to  think  he  ought  or  may  be  obliged  to  go, 
that  I  dare  not  allow  myself  to  dwell  on  the  idea.  With 
respect  to  you,  my  dear  John,  I  hope  I  need  not  be  ap- 
prehensive that  you  will  be  called  on.  You  maybe  sure 
nothing  could  induce  me  to  let  you  go.  Let  me  know 
if  there  is  any  reason  to  be  uneasy. 

Your  afiectionate, 

Hannah  Hobart.' 

'  Princeton,  September  Qlth,  1794. 
I  have  been  very  uneasy,  my  dear  Mamma,  at  not 
being  able  to  write  you  sooner,  but  the  business  and 
hurry  of  Commencement  has  prevented  me.  I  wish  you 
would  try  and  ease  yourself  of  the  anxiety  you  feel,  and 
that  both  you  and  sister  would  try  and  keep  up  your 
spirits.  It  is  indeed  unfortunate  that  it  became  neces- 
sary for  Mr.  Smith  to  leave  his  family  and  business; 
but  as  it  is,  so  it  is  certainly  our  duty  to  submit.  I  have 
no  idea  there  will  be  any  bloodshed.  As  soon  as  the 
insurgents  find  there  is  a  respectable  force  collected 
against  them  they  Avill  disperse.     My  dear  Mamma 


6 


» 


130  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

need  not  be  under  the  least  apprehensions  on  my  ac- 
count. The  quota  of  militia  required  from  this  State  is 
very  small,  not  above  2000;  it  will  be  completed  with- 
out difficulty,  chiefly  by  volunteers ;  and  even  if  there 
were  any  difficulty,  there  is  no  danger  of  my  being 
called  out,  as  I  am  not  enrolled  on  the  militia  of  this 
State. 

Your  apprehensions  about  the  fever  I  would  also  hope 
will  prove  unfounded.  We  know  how  many  false 
rumors  are  always  circulating,  and  when  this  is  the 
case,  v/e  think  much  of  appearances  which  at  other 
times  would  not  be  taken  notice  of.  It  seems  improba- 
ble the  fever  should  break  out  at  this  late  season,  when 
the  warm  weather  is  entirely  past ;  and  even  if  it  should, 
such  precautions  would  be  used  as  would  prevent  its 
spreading :  it  would  also  be  more  under  the  power  of 
medicine.  The  cases  you  mention  were  probably  the 
common  fall  fever,  which  the  fears  of  people  have  mag- 
nified into  a  contagious  one.  If,  however,  there  lu 
danger,  I  trust  my  dear  Mamma  will  be  as  careful  of 
herself  as  she  is  of  me.  You  seem,  on  the  contrary, 
anxious  for  me,  but  indifferent  about  yourself.  It  gives 
me  great  satisfaction  to  hear  you  are  well,  and  I  hope 
that  while  you  are  solicitous  to  keep  me  out  of  danger, 
you  will,  if  there  is  any,  avoid  it  yourself. 

I  feel  much  for  dear  sister  ;  she  must  be  very  uneasy 
at  the  absence  of  Mr.  Smith.  I  have  not  the  least  doubt, 
however,  but  what  the  troops  will  return  safely  in  the 
course  of  a  very  short  time. 

I  shall  not  misspend  my  time  here.  Indeed,  it  has 
passed  very  agreeably,  independent  of  the  improvement 
I  may  have  derived.  I  feel  the  greatest  attachment  for 
a  sweet  youth  liere,  Forsyth  from  Georgia.     His  pre- 


B  I  S  H  0  P     H  OB  ART.  131 

sence  makes  amends  for  the  absence  of  Skinner,  whom 
I  have  not  seen,  as  I  expected,  at  the  Commencement. 
My  attachments  are  few,  but  they  are  very  warm,  and 
I  often  think  I  should  be  thankful  that  I  enjoy  as  I  do 
in  the  highest  degree  the  pleasures  of  friendship.  When 
my  dear  Mamma  sees  and  knows  my  two  friends  she 
will  not  wonder  that  I  love  them.  Give  a  great  deal  of 
love  to  sister.  Kiss  the  dear  children  for  me.  I  long  to 
see  the  saucy  Robert,  and  the  sweet  little  Anna.  You 
must  be  with  sister  as  much  as  possible. 
With  much  affection,  yours,  &c. 

John  H.  Hobart.' 

'  Princeton. 
I  have  not  written  for  this  some  time  to  my  dear 
Mamma,  but  do  not  think  of  her  the  less  often.  Indeed, 
my  happiness  and  means  of  improvement  here  continu- 
ally remind  me  of  you ;  for  to  you  I  am  indebted  for 
them  all.  I  am  not  in  immediate  want  of  money,  but 
whenever  you  can  make  it  convenient  to  s^nd  me  some, 
it  will  be  acceptable  ;  but  I  beg  you  will  not  put  your- 
self to  any  inconvenience  to  do  it.  I  should  wish  to  pay 
Mrs.  Knox  as  much  as  possible  in  advance.  I  feel  my- 
self under  the  greatest  obligations  to  her.  She  treats 
me  with  the  affectionate  tenderness  of  a  parent,  and 
does  every  thing  in  her  power  that  can  tend  to  my  con- 
venience or  comfort.  She  is  considerably  advanced  in 
life,  and  from  poor  circumstances  obliged  to  work  very 
hard  for  her  living.  The  students  being  all  obliged  to 
board  in  college,  she  has  not  a  prospect  of  making  out 
well.  I  wish  it  were  in  my  power  to  make  her  situation 
every  way  easy  and  comfortable,  and  I  know  my  dear 
Mamma  will  join  me  in  this  wish. 


132'  MEMOIROF 

I  have  been  thinking  whether  it  would  not  be  best  for 
me  to  learn  French  this  winter.  I  have  more  time  now 
than  I  shall  probably  have  at  any  future  period.  I  wish 
you  would  let  me  know  what  you  think  best  on  this 
subject.  Forsyth  sends  his  love.  My  dear  Mamma  is 
not  deceived  in  his  amiable  disposition,  and  I  receive 
daily  the  strongest  proofs  of  his  affection. 

Expecting  to  hear  from  you  soon,  I  am  your  sincerely 
affectionate, 

John  H.  Hobart.' 

As  the  next  letter  that  appears  in  answer 
says  nothing  further  of  military  dangers,  it  may 
be  presumed  the  mother's  fears  were  quieted  on 
that  score.  His  health,  however,  was  still  a 
subject  of  restless  inquiry. 

'  Philadelphia,  22d  December,  1794. 
Your  two  letters,  my  dear  John,  were  very  accept- 
able, and  it  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  find  your 
situation  so  agreeable,  with  a  prospect  also  of  its  being 
so  advantageous  with  respect  to  your  improvement.  I 
miss  you  exceedingly,  but  the  reflection  and  the  hope 
that  you  will  profit  by  it  reconciles  me  to  the  separation ; 
and  you  may  be  assured  I  am  much  more  happy  with 
such  prospects  in  view,  than  I  should  be  if  you  were 
with  me,  and  without  them.  But,  my  dear  John, 
mental  advantages  are  not  all  that  are  to  be  considered, 
you  should  also  have  regard  to  your  health,  for  without 
health  there  can  be  no  enjoyment.  Do  not  neglect  to 
pay  proper  attention  to  that,  and  spare  nothing  that 
will  contribute  to  preserve  it ;  and  if  any  thing  should  at 
any  time  ail  you,  do  not  neglect  to  attend  to  it  in  time. 


BISHOP     HOBART.  133 

It  certainly  would  be  my  wish  to  have  you  with  me  if 
your  improvement  would  be  promoted  by  it ;  but  when 
that  cannot  be,  I  must  and  do  endeavor  to  reconcile 
myself  to  the  separation  with  cheerfulness,  and  I  am 
the  better  enabled  to  do  this,  when  I  remember  that  you 
have,  in  addition  to  the  other  advantages  of  your  situa- 
tion, the  (I  may  say)  maternal  care  and  kindness  of  the 
worthy  Mrs.  Knox :  indeed  I  feel  great  regard  for  her 
on  account  of  her  attention  to  you,  and  wish  with  you 
that  her  situation  was  more  suited  to  her  merits. 

As  I  would,  in  every  instance,  do  all  I  can  to  promote 
my  dear  John's  advantage,  I  have  no  objection  to  your 
learning  French,  if  it  will  not  interfere  with  your  other 
studies  ;  but  will  it  not  interrupt  and  divide  your  atten- 
tion, or  oppress  your  mind  by  having  too  much  to 
attend  to  ?  I  mention  this  as  what  occurred  to  me. 
On  considering  it  you  will  be  better  able  to  judge  than 
I  am ;  and  if  you  conclude  it  best  to  engage  in  it  now, 
and  the  teacher  is  a  good  one,  you  have  my  consent. 

Remember  me  to  your  friend  Forsyth.  I  feel  attached 
to  him  for  his  affection  to  you,  as  well  as  for  his 
amiable  disposition  and  goodness  of  heart. 

You  may  be  assured,  my  dear  John,  you  have  con- 
tinually the  best  wish  and  prayers  of  your  affectionate 
mother, 

H.    HoBART.' 

'  Tuesday,  24th  March,  1795. 

I  wished  to  have  written  to  you,  my  dear  John, 
immediately  on  the  receipt  of  your  last,  enclosing  the 
five  dollar  note.  I  am  sorry  you  sent  it,  because  though 
you  might  do  without  it  then  I  know  you  cannot  long, 
and  I  now  return  it  to  you.    I  wished  to  have  added  to 


131  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

it,  but  cannot  spare  any  now  ;  don't  be  uneasy  about  it, 
for  I  am  not  without.  I  have  an  entire  confidence  in 
my  dear  John's  assurances  of  frugality  and  economy^ 
but  do  not  wish  you  to  deny  yourself  any  thing  that  is 
necessary  for  your  comfort  or  convenience. 

The  sentiments  of  affectionate  gratitude  and  duty 
contained  in  your  letter  could  not  but  afford  me  much 
pleasure.  My  dear  children's  happiness  has  always 
been  my  first  wish,  and  to  know  that  they  merit  and 
enjoy  happiness  my  highest  gratification.  I  flatter 
myself,  my  dear  John,  that  the  advantages  you  have 
in  your  present  situation  will  contribute  much  to  pro- 
mote yours,  and  to  continue  them  to  you  nothing  in 
my  power  shall  be  wanting,  you  may  be  assured. 

You  have  not  told  me  lately  how  your  health  is  ;  do 
let  me  know  candidly  :  I  hope  in  your  attention  to  your 
studies,  you  have  a  regard  to  that ;  as  in  my  opinion 
it  is  one  of  our  first  duties  ^to  endeavor  to  preserve 
health.  I  think  you  have  got  a  habit  of  stooping,  par- 
ticularly when  reading  or  writing.  I  would  wish  you  to 
avoid  it  as  much  as  you  can ;  any  posture  that  occasions 
a  pressure  on  the  breast  must  be  hurtful. 

That  you  may  be  preserved  from  every  danger,  is  the 
prayer  of,  my  dear  John,  your  affectionate  mother, 

H.  HOBART.' 

The  following  letter  would  indicate  that  he 
had  quitted  the  college  as  a  resident  graduate, 
and  returned  home  previous  to  its  date  : 

'  Princeton,  September  bth,  1795. 
Friend  Hobart, 

Perhaps  you   have  been   made    aware    that    Mr. 

English  has  for  some  time  entertained  thought  of  re- 


B  I  S  H  0  P     H  0  B  A  R  T.  135 

signing  the  office  he  at  present  hold?.  He  has  declared 
his  intention  to  this  effect  to  Dr.  Smith.  Dr.  S.  has 
requested  me  to  write  to  you,  to  know  whether  you 
would  be  willing  to  occupy  his  place.  If  so,  an  inti- 
mation of  it  as  soon  as  possible  Avill  give  him  satisfac- 
tion. You  are  as  well  acquainted  with  the  situation 
and  the  business,  as  you  could  be  from  having  been 
only  an  observer.  The  advantages  of  it  are  by  no 
means  small,  and  you  know  my  thoughts  as  to  its 
inconveniences.  In  short,  feelings  are  often  concerned, 
but  sooner  or  later  this  must  be  the  case  in  life  ;  and 
when  we  begin  early  to  deal  with  others,  we  have  the 
advantage  of  a  gradual  experience  in  coming  into  the 
world.  But  I  need  not  tell  you  all  this. 
Yours,  &c. 

)       Joseph  Caldwell.'* 

'  Philadelphia,  12th  October,  1795. 

I  have  received  my  dear  John's  letter  of  the  5th 
instant,  but  have  been  so  engaged  as  not  to  have  it  in 
my  power  to  answer  it  until  now.  When  with  me  at 
Frankfort,  you  seemed  so  certain  it  would  be  a  great 
advantage  to  you  in  your  studies  to  be  in  the  office 
which  Mr.  E.  then  proposed  to  resign,  that  I  was  per- 
fectly satisfied  you  should  accept  of  it ;  but  as  he  now 
wishes  to  retain  it,  you  cannot  do  otherwise,  with  pro- 
priety, than  relinquish  your  intentions  of  accepting  it. 
It  will,  to  be  sure,  disappoint  some  of  the  plans  you 
had  laid  down ;  but  I  hope  it  will  not  be  necessary  on 
that  account  to  give  up  your  residence  at  Princeton. 

My  dear  John  may  be  assured  that  nothing  which 

*  Now  President  of  the  University  of  North-Carolina,  at 
Chapel  HUl. 


136  M  E  M  O  I  R    O  F 

depends  upon  me  shall  be  withheld  that  may  contribute 
to  promote  his  improvement,  as  I  shall,  if  necessary, 
submit  to  any  temporary  inconvenience  myself,  to 
insure  a  permanent  advantage  to  you.  I  therefore 
wish  you  to  be  perfectly  easy,  and  that  you  should 
adopt  and  pursue  that  plan  which  you  feel  convinced 
will  most  promote  your  happiness  and  advantage. 

Your  desire,  my  dear  John,  to  be  with  me,  cannot  be 
stronger  than  mine  to  have  you,  if  it  could  be  equally 
advantageous  to  you ;  but  the  consideration  that  it 
cannot,  has  influenced  me  to  the  separation  ;  but  I  look 
forward  with  hope  that  the  time  is  approaching,  though 
at  a  distance,  when  I  shall  be  happy  in  your  company, 
without  the  necessity  of  another  separation.  Providence, 
I  trust,  will  provide  for  you,  and  indulge  my  anxious 
wishes  to  see  my  beloved  child  comfortably  settled, 
where  I  can  witness  his  happiness.     ***** 

[What  follows  relates  to  the  death  of  young  Skinner, 
intelligence  of  which,  it  would  seem,  his  letter  had 
communicated.] 

I  have  much  satisfaction,  indeed,  my  dear  John,  in 
finding  that  your  mind  is  in  such  a  composed  frame. 
Your  distress  has  been  great,  I  know,  and  I  have  felt 
much  for  you ;  but  it  is  a  comfort  to  me  to  find  you  are 
now  so  resigned,  and  I  hope  you  will  more  and  more 
experience  the  goodness  of  your  heavenly  Father  in  all 
his  dispensations,  and  be  enabled  cheerfully  to  submit 
to  his  will.  I  shall  be  pleased  to  see  the  letters  you 
mention  when  you  have  an  opportunity. 

In  answer  to  your  proposal  of  a  visit  to  the  family  of 
your  late  friend  at  New- York,  I  doubt  not  they  will  be 
much  pleased  to  see  you,  and  I  am  convinced  it  will 


BISHOP     HOBART.  137 

give  you  great  satisfaction  to  make  the  visit.  I  cannot, 
therefore,  be  unwilling  you  should  take  the  journey,  but 
would  wish  you  to  do  it  before  the  season  is  much  far- 
ther advanced.  It  is  a  long  way  to  travel  in  cold  or  bad 
weather,  and  so  much  water  to  pass,  which  I  believe  is 
frequently  dangerous,  that  I  shall  be  relieved  from  some 
anxiety  when  I  know  you  are  safe  over  it.  You  will 
inform  me  when  you  propose  to  go,  and  when  you 
return.  You  have  the  best  wishes  and  tenderest  aflfec- 
tion  of  yours, 

H.    HoBART. 

N.  B.  I  do  not  forget  your  friend  Forsyth,  though  I 
do  not  always  mention  him  ;  tell  him  so.' 

In  the  course  of  this  winter  he  seems  to 
have  accepted,  though  amid  many  doubts,  of 
the  situation  of  college  tutor. 

From  the  cheerful  tone  of  the  following 
letter,  we  may  judge  that  he  had  made  a  right 
decision  :  the  ability  to  proffer  aid  to  a  mother 
who  had  straitened  her  own  for  his  comforts, 
proving,  to  such  a  spirit  as  his,  a  sufficient 
reward  for  many  labors. 

'  Princeton,  March  I2th,  1796. 
I  am  as  anxious  to  hear  from  my  dear  Mamma  as  I 
suppose  you  are  from  me.  It  is  some  time  since  I  have 
written,  as  my  engagements  for  these  two  weeks  past 
have  been  considerably  increased.  Dr.  Minto,  the  pro- 
fessor of  mathematics,  has  been  unwell  all  winter ;  his 
duly  hitherto  has  been  performed  by  Mr.  Caldwell,  but 
has  now  devolved  upon  me.    I  have  thus  two  classes 


138  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

to  attena,  one  of  which  is  studying  the  mathematics,  so 
that  you  see  I  am  quite  the  man  of  business.  My  col- 
lege duties  take  up  at  present  nearly  the  whole  of  my 
time,  but  they  are  all  highly  necessary  and  improving. 
I  should  wish  to  attend  to  them,  and  perhaps  the  pre- 
sent is  the  most  proper  time  for  that  purpose.  In  the 
course  of  the  summer  I  hope  to  have  made  such  profi- 
ciency in  them  as  to  be  able  to  attend  more  immediately 
to  divinity,  though  there  is  no  part  of  my  duty  which  is 
not  improving,  and  no  knowledge  derived  from  it  which 
I  would  not  wish  to  gain.  How  glad  I  am  I  did  not 
yield  to  the  solicitations  of  old  Dr.  Smith,*  and  engage 
in  his  place.  I  should  then  have  lost  means  of  improve- 
ment which  T  should  never  have  thought  of  without  pain. 
This  place  has  been,  to  use  a  common  phrase,  the  mak- 
ing of  me ;  I  mean,  whatever  knowledge  or  ideas  of 
improvement  I  now  have,  I  have  got  here,  and  I  have  no 
fear  that  my  opportunities  of  improvement  will  diminish. 
I  enjoy  my  health  perfectly,  and  take  more  exercise 
than  I  did  in  the  former  part  of  the  winter.  I  am  in  no 
want  of  money ;  I  have  received  some  from  the  trea- 
surer. If  Job  Hughes  has  not  paid  you,  and  you  are  in 
want  of  money,  let  me  know  and  I  will  send  you  some. 
I  have  not  time  to  add  more,  but  to  send  my  love  to  all 
friends,  and  to  offer  my  sincere  prayers  for  the  health 
and  happiness  of  my  dear  Mamma. 
Your  affectionate 

John  H.  Hobart.' 

'  Princeton,  May  2,  1796. 
My  dear  Mamma  will  be  pleased  to  hear  of  my  safe 
arrival.     My  journey  was   tolerably  pleasant,   not  so 

♦  The  Rev.  Dr,  Smith,  of  Philadelphia. 


B  I  S  H  O  P     H  0  B  ART.  139 

much  so  as  it  would  have  been  with  warmer  weather. 
I  found  every  thing  in  my  trunk  in  good  order.  The 
gingerbread  was  very  acceptable  in  itself,  but  doubly  so 
as  a  proof  of  your  solicitude  for  me  even  in  trifles.  I  wish 
I  could  give  some  stronger  expression  of  my  feelings, 
when  I  reflect  on  your  tender  and  constant  anxiety  for 
me,  than  mere  Avords.  But  I  trust  Providence  will  give 
you  that  reward  which  I  cannot. 

I  found  my  room-mates  in  good  health,  and  pleased  to 
see  me.  It  gratifies  me  to  receive  from  all  with  whom 
I  am  here  connected,  proofs  of  their  esteem  for  me,  and 
from  some  of  more  than  esteem.  I  know  no  greater 
happiness  than  that  of  being  beloved,  especially  by  those 
who  are  the  objects  of  one's  affection ;  and  here  in  the 
college,  where  the  selfish  principles  of  the  world  are,  I 
may  say,  unknown,  there  is  nothing  to  control  the  feel- 
ings of  sincere  affection.  I  am  hardly  yet  fixed  to  study ; 
to-morrow  I  expect  to  begin  in  earnest,  and  to  enjoy  my 
usual  happiness  when  thus  engaged ;  and  when  my 
dear  Mamma  knows  that  I  am  happy,  I  hope  she  will 
be  so  too.  That  this  may  always  be  the  case,  is  the 
prayer  of  her  sincerely  affectionate  son, 

John  H.  Hobart.' 

'  May  3d,  1796,  Tuesday. 
I  had  just  sat  down  to  write  to  you,  my  dear  John, 
when  I  received  your  welcome  letter.  It  gives  me  much 
pleasure  to  hear  you  got  safe  up,  and  were  so  affection- 
ately received  by  your  friends  and  companions  ;  and  you 
maybe  assured  the  sentiments  of  gratitude  and  affection 
to  me  expressed  in  your  letter  are  exceedingly  gratifying, 
as  I  know  they  are  sincere.  To  have  my  children's 
affection^  and  to  be  certain  they  deserve  mine,  and  are 


140  M  E  M  O  I  R     0  F 

happy,  affords  me  the  highest  enjoyment  when  sepa- 
rated from  them. 

That  you,  my  dear  John,  may  continue  to  experience 
the  peculiar  favor  of  a  kind  Providence,  (and  I  know 
you  will  not  be  unthankful  for  it,)  is  the  sincere  prayer 
of  your  ever  affectionate  mother, 

H.    HOBART.' 

The  warm  attachment  of  his  associates  here 
alluded  to  appears  in  a  joint  letter  about  this 
date  from  two  of  his  friends.  Burnet,  the  one 
who  concludes  it,  says,  *  Your  good  friend, 
whose  hand  you  will  here  recognise  with  plea- 
sure, has  just  left  me.  While  here,  he  acci- 
dentally saw  your  little  trunk  in  one  corner  of 
the  room,  and  actually  manifested  as  much  joy 
at  the  sight  of  it  as  if  it  had  been  an  old  friend.' 

The  following  letter  is  from  young  Robert- 
son, the  same  from  whose  pen  a  sketch  has 
already  been  given. 

'  Philadelphia,  April  1th,  1796. 
My  dear  John, 

It  was  with  much  pleasure  I  received  your  letter 
yesterday,  after  so  long  a  silence.  I  have  been  expect- 
ing one  for  some  time,  and  I  need  not  tell  you  how 
much  it  would  have  gratified  me,  but  I  have  felt  con- 
fident it  was  to  your  engagements  only  I  owed  my 
disappointment. 

It  was  to  be  expected  that  your  present  station  would 
require  much   of  your  attention,   and   proper  that  it 


BIS^HOP     HOBART.  141 

should ;  but  when  by  it,  together  with  your  own 
studies,  your  whole  time  is  engrossed,  it  cannot  be  very 
agreeable,  and  to  be  obliged  in  some  degree  to  neglect 
your  friends  not  the  least  unpleasant  circumstance  with 
which  it  is  attended.  I  sincerely  wish  some  alteration 
may  take  place,  not  only  because  I  may  then  expect  to 
be  favored  oftener  with  your  letters,  but  because  I  think 
it  would  be  more  for  your  happiness.  I  have  often 
intended  writing  since  I  last  saw  you,  and  I  know  you 
will  believe  me  when  I  say  it  was  not  your  silence 
that  prevented  me. 

The  debates  in  Congress  have  lately  been  very  inter- 
esting. While  the  eloquence  and  abilities  displayed 
on  this  occasion  reflect,  as  you  observe,  honor  on  the 
minority,  the  late  decision  is  little  to  the  credit  of  the 
House.  There  has  not  been  a  subject*  before  Congress 
since  the  establishment  of  the  government,  in  which 
one  party  has  had  so  decidedly  the  advantage ;  but  with 
men  who  had  made  up  their  minds  to  resist  conviction, 
it  would  be  vain  to  expect  that  reasoning,  however 
irresistible,  would  have  any  effect.  No  doubt  a  number 
of  the  majority  gave  their  vote  from  a  mistaken  judg- 
ment ;  but  it  is  no  breach  of  charity  to  say  that  a 
Baldwin  and  a  Madison  have  not  that  apology. 

The  conduct  of  the  President  on  this  as  former  occa 
sions,  must  meet  the  approbation  of  every  good  man, 
and  shows  clearly  that  nothing  but  the  dictates  of  con- 
science influence  him.  His  message  was  yesterday 
taken  into  consideration,  and  the  business  begun  by  a 
lengthy  speech  from  Mr.  Madison,  the  substance  of 
which  was,  "  the  reasons  assigned  by  the  President  for 

•  Mr.  Jay's  treaty  with  Great  Britain. 


11-3  M  E  M  0  I  R     0  F 

refusing  the  papers  were  not  sufficient,  nor  liis  con- 
struction of  the  constitution  just."  He,  however,  ad- 
mitted that  the  President  had  a  right  to  refuse  the 
papers. 

It  is  the  wish  of  that  party  now,  and  I  suppose  they 
will  succeed,  to  have  their  opinions  relative  to  the  treaty- 
making  power  inserted  on  the  journals  of  the  House. 
This  appears  by  a  resolution  now  on  the  table,  and  is 
in  substance  the  same  with  one  laid  on  the  table  a 
few  days  ago  by  Mr.  Kitchell,  which  I  suppose  you 

have  seen. 

I  am  affectionately  yours, 

J.  Robertson.' 

If  the  excitement  of  politics  could  arouse 
the  quiet  merchant,  no  wonder  that  the  more 
excitable  student  caught  the  infection,  and 
taking  advantage  of  some  interval  of  duty,  or 
some  friendly  aid,  he  hurried  up  to  town  to 
enjoy  the  feast  of  eloquence  of  which  he  heard 
so  much.  His  visit  was  happily  timed  ;  he 
found  himself  in  Philadelphia,  in  the  House  of 
Representatives,  on  the  twenty-fourth  of  this 
same  month,  when  Fisher  Ames  delivered  his 
memorable  speech  on  the  subject  of  the  British 
treaty.  The  impression  made  upon  the  mind 
of  a  hearer,  ardent  as  the  speaker  himself,  may 
be  judged  of  from  the  fact  of  his  sitting  down, 
on  retiring  from  the  House,  and  putting  on 
paper  his  vivid  recollections  of  that  celebrated 
burst  of  impassioned  eloquence.     This  proof 


B  I  S  II  O  P    H  O  B  A  R  T.  143 

of  sensibility  and  talent  is  preserved  among 
his  papers,  endorsed  as  follows  :  *  Sketch  of 
Mr.  Ames'  Speech  on  the  subject  of  the  British 
Treaty  in  the  House  of  Representatives,  taken 
from  memory,  1796.'  It  closes  thus  :  *  Mr. 
Ames  in  conclusion  observed,  that  enfeebled 
as  he  w^as  by  disease,  vacant  as  his  mind  then 
was  of  ideas,  and  deprived  as  he  felt  he  was  of 
the  power  of  collecting  them,  he  expected  to 
have  given  a  silent  vote,  and  supposed  that 
any  desire  he  might  have  of  speaking  was  con- 
trolled by  a  commanding  necessity  ;  but  when 
he  advanced  to  the  precipice  of  that  abyss, 
which  if  not  fathomless  was  yet  inexplorable, 
he  felt  desirous  to  protract,  if  it  were  only  for 
half  an  hour,  a  decision  which  was  to  plunge 
them  all  into  it.  Personally  he  felt  little  inter- 
ested in  the  event  of  the  vote  ;  his  hold  of  life 
would  probably  not  last  till  the  fatal  disasters 
of  the  rejection  of  the  treaty  would  come  upon 
his  country.  But  he  felt  for  posterity,  and  for 
them  he  spoke.' 

In  the  autumn  of  this  year,  (1796,)  Mr. 
Hobart's  health  was  seriously  threatened  ;  the 
cause,  however,  seems  to  have  been  rather 
mental  than  bodily.  A  despondency  which, — 
whether  the  result  of  highly  excited  feelings, 
or,  what  is  more  probable,  of  over  wrought 
faculties,  in  the  double  task  of  teacher  and 


144  MEMOIROF 

student,- — ^broke  down  his  powers,  awakened 
for  a  time  in  the  minds  of  his  friends,  and  still 
more  in  that  of  his  foreboding  mother,  the 
most  anxious  solicitude.  In  this  state  he 
returned  home,  where,  under  the  blessing  of 
God,  relaxation  and  domestic  affection  soon 
wrought  their  usual  happy  result. 

The  following  affectionate  letter  met  him  on 
his  return,  from  an  old  college  friend,  one 
who  had  gone  before  him  in  the  labors  of  the 
ministry,  though  in  another  Church. 

^  New -York,  November  Wth^  1796. 
Dear  Hobart, 

It  grieves  me  that  I  have  been  obliged  to  neglect  so 
long  the  answering  of  your  affectionate  letter.  But 
hear  me.  I  attended  punctually  at  the  post-office  till  the 
day  I  went  to  New- York,  which  must  have  heen  the 
day  your  letter  reached  New-Brunswick.  I  did  not 
receive  it  until  a  week  after  by  the  return  of  the  boat, 
and  then  it  was  on  a  bed  of  sickness,  and  I  now  devote 
my  first  composed  moments  to  answer  for  my  apparent 
negligence,  which  must  have  been  unaccountable  to 
one  in  your  situation. 

By  this  time,  I  presume,  you  have  returned  to  Prince- 
ton, and  I  earnestly  pray  that  it  may  be  with  a  mind 
strengthened  and  composed,  and  your  malady  overcome 
in  a  great  measure  —  complete  recovery  must  be  a  work 
of  time.  Just  now,  dear  John,  I  may  be  but  a  poor 
adviser,  till  made  better  acquainted  with  the  progress  of 
your  recovery.  I  long  to  see  and  converse  with  you, 
and  shall  haste  to  pay  you  a  visit  on  my  return  to  New- 


BISHOP     HOBART.  145 

Brunswick,  which  will  be  in  a  week  or  fortnight  at 
farthest.  Your  Robert  has  been  with  you  to  Philadel- 
phia. I  know  he  has  been  attentive  and  affectionate, 
bat  I  imagine  he  has  had  to  return  before  you  to  prepare 
for  his  office.  At  such  times  you  are  apt  to  be  anxious 
and  melancholy ;  this  should  not  be,  my  dear  Hobart. 
You  have  sometimes  told  me,  that  in  the  depth  of  your 
distress  and  debility  of  mind,  when  you  have  heard  your 
Robert  praised,  when  you  have  seen  his  ease  and  pro- 
priety of  behavior  in  company,  different  you  thought 
from  your  own,  you  have  often  experienced  dark  and 
envious  feelings.  Believe  me,  my  dear  friend,  I  attribute 
this  to  the  weak  state  of  your  body  and  mind,  for  friend- 
ship delights  in  the  superior  excellence  of  its  friend,  at 
the  same  time  that  it  labors  to  become  equally  excellent ; 
and  your  noble  soul  is,  I  know,  capable  of  the  purest 
friendship.  When  you  can  act  yourself,  none  have 
better  talents  to  excel,  none  dispositions  more  inclinable 
to  virtue.  You  have  uncommon  judgment  and  foresight 
in  most  things.  When  you  converse  there  is  an  air  of 
candor  and  sincerity,  with  a  firmness  and  becoming 
warmth  in  the  support  of  truth,  which  commands  at 
once  love  and  respect  from  the  discerning,  and  a  mild- 
ness and  benevolence  of  temper,  discoverable  even  on  a 
short  acquaintance,  which  must  attract  universal  regard. 
You  have  also  a  strength  of  mind  (notwithstanding  its 
present  weakness)  which  displays  itself  in  uncommon 
resolution  and  perseverance  in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge, 
and  in  the  performance  of  duty.  Witness  your  govern- 
ment in  the  college  with  a  mixture  of  mildness  and 
firmness  which  has  gained  the  affections  of  every  worthy 
student.  Did  I  not  know  this  was  truth,  and  that  you 
can  bear  it,  I  would  not  dare  to  say  so  much  to  any 
7 


146  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

person  concerning  himself,  but  I  know  my  John  too 
well  to  think  that  this  will  have  any  other  than  a  good 
effect. 

vShail  I  say  why  I  have  thus  told  you  what  I  think  of 
you?  It  is  to  encourage  —  to  exhort  you.  Your  very 
endeavors  to  be  cheerful  will  counteract  in  a  measure 
the  influence  of  melancholy  thoughts.  Whenever,  there- 
fore, you  find  your  spirits  grow  dull,  and  feel  inclined 
to  indulge  anxious  and  foreboding  thought,  do  any  thing ; 
stirt  up,  walk,  talk,  by  some  means  or  other  divert  your 
attention  ;  use  every  exertion,  every  power  of  body  and 
mind  to  counteract  your  malady,  and  give  not  up  to  de- 
spairing thoughts ;  and  then  I  hope,  yea,  I  have  a  strong 
confidence,  that  your  God  will  preserve  you  from  going 
down  to  the  pit,  will  make  you  an  honor  and  a  blessing 
to  the  Church  of  Christ  and  to  society,  and  at  last  will 
receive  you  to  an  inheritance  incorruptible  and  that 
fadeth  not  away.  Trust,  then,  in  God,  and  you  shall 
yet  praise  him ;  make  him  the  strength  and  chief  con- 
fidence of  your  heart,  and  he  will  be  your  portion  for 
ever.  My  heart  longs  for  —  it  goes  out  to  God  in  hearty 
wishes  and  prayers  for  your  recovery  and  prosperity, 
that  you  may  be  enabled  to  exert  all  your  abilities  in 
the  service  of  God,  and  that  you  may  experience  the 
joys  and  comforts  of  religion.  I  have  a  great  deal  to 
say ;  my  heart  is  full  whenever  I  am  writing,  thinking, 
or  speaking  of  you.     #     *     #     * 

Dr.  Minto  is  dead.  Dear  good  man,  he  has  gone  to 
the  enjoyment  of  the  saints  in  bliss.  What  a  loss  to 
society ;  to  Nassau  Hall  it  will  be  almost  irreparable. 
I  have  been  revolving  in  my  mind  who  will  supply  his 
place,  but  can  fix  upon  no  one.  I  long  to  be  at  Prince- 
ton, and  will  be  there  soon.     I  feel  interested  in  all  the 


B  I  S  H  0  P     H  O  B  A  R  T.  147 

concerns  of  that  place ;  I  have  past,  I  may  say,  almost 
the  happiest  hours  of  my  life  in  it,  but  find  it  impracti- 
cable to  reside  there  again.  The  good  Mrs.  Knox  and 
Miss  Sally  I  hope  are  well :  they  were  my  sincere 
friends,  and  I  feel  much  gratitude  to  them  for  their  kind, 
yes,  tender  usage  of  me.  Remember  me  with  affection 
to  them ;  also  to  Cunningham,  Comfort,  How,  Mercer, 
Hughes  and  Watson,  my  Mapleton  friends,  when  you 
see  them,  and  all  whom  I  should  not  forget,  for  my 
heart  is  big  with  good  Wishes  to  all  my  Princeton 
friends ;  and  you,  my  dear  Hobart,  next  to  my  nearest 
connections,  possess  the  first  place  in  my  affections. 
Believe  me  to  be  your  hearty  well-wisher,  and  rank 
among  the  tenderest  of  your  friends,  your 

Ebenezer  Grant.' 

On  the  same   sheet,  he  thus  writes  to  the 
young  companion  of  his  desponding  friend  : 

'  My  dear  Robert, 

Think  not  I  have  forgotten  you,  or  that  you  are 
last  remembered  by  being  addressed  last,  for  indeed  you 
have  a  great  share  of  my  sincere  regard.  My  Robert, 
you  are  entering  early  on  the  stage  of  action ;  you  have 
many  and  important  trusts  committed  to  you,  and  you 
have  abilities  adequate  to  the  discharge  of  them.  You 
have  by  this  time  probably  entered  on  the  office  of 
teaching  others,  almost  as  soon  as  you  have  ceased  to 
be  a  scholar  yourself;  this  is  a  task  which  will  require 
much  prudence  and  firmness,  but  with  exertion  I  feel 
confident  you  will  succeed.  Your  dear  John,  who  has 
been  in  many  instances  as  a  guardian  angel,  will  be  a 
wise  counsellor  to  you.     Love  him,  my  dear  Robert, 


148  MEMOIROP 

with  all  the  affection  you  can  give.  Soothe  him  in  his 
melancholy ;  then  I  have  no  doubt  but  that  you  will  be 
great  and  happy  together.  May  the  Lord  bless  and 
prosper  you,  ye  true  friends.  Think  often  on  him,  who 
can  subscribe  himself,  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart, 
your  friend, 

E.  Grant.' 

The  promised  visit  to  Princeton  did  not  take 
place.  On  10th  Decemher,  this  truly  sympa- 
thizing friend  thus  again  writes  : 

'  New  -Brunswick,  \Oth  December,  1796. 
Dear  John, 

You  no  doubt  concluded  from  my  letter  that  I 
should  have  paid  you  a  visit  before  this  time,  and  this 
has,  I  trust,  been  the  reason  why  I  have  not  received  a 
line  from  you.  Monday,  28th,  I  had  fixed  upon  for  it, 
but  many  causes  have  hitherto  prevented  me.  In  the 
mean  time  I  should  be  much  pleased  to  receive  from 
you  a  favorable  account  of  your  health,  both  of  body 
and  mind.  For  your  comfort  I  cannot  help  but  say,  that 
often  after  I  have  besought  the  Lord  to  have  mercy  on 
myself  and  you,  I  have  felt  a  kind  of  enthusiastic  confi- 
dence that  he  would  subdue  your  malady,  would  recruit 
your  strength,  would  raise  you  to  honor  and  usefulness 
in  life,  and  to  a  seat  at  his  right  hand  for  ever.  Despair 
not,  then,  of  his  goodness,  my  dear  John ;  his  thoughts 
are  not  as  our  thoughts,  nor  his  ways  as  our  ways. 
Our  duty  is  submission  of  the  whole  heart  to  the  dis- 
posals of  his  providence.  Afflictions  come  not  from  the 
ground  ;  they  are  not  unprofitable  to  the  children  of 
God  ;   they  are  not  more  frequently  evidences  of  his 


B  I  S  H  O  P     H  O  B  A  R  T.  149 

displeasure  than  they  are  merciful  visitations  to  lead  us 
to  unfeigned  repentance  for  sin,  and  to  a  closer  walk 
with  God. 

Write  me,  my  friend,  of  your  arrangements  for  the 
present  session ;  of  your  difficulties  and  your  satisfac- 
tions :  any  thing  that  concerns  you  interests  me.  How 
is  your  Robert  pleased  with  his  situation,  and  how  are 
you  yourself  and  the  students  pleased  with  him  in  the 
execution  of  his  office  ?  Does  he  begin  to  form  a  steady 
decided  character  ?  If  so,  he  will  meet  my  earnest  hopes 
of  his  one  day  becoming  a  great  and  good  man. 

My  father  grows  very  infirm,  and  his  eyes  are  dan- 
gerously affected.  Should  he  lose  his  sight,  all  methods 
of  information  will  be  taken  from  him.  He  says  he 
has  tasted  all  the  happiness  this  world  can  afford,  and 
longs  to  depart  for  another  and  a  better.  My  mother 
has  taken  a  great  liking  to  you  only  from  description. 
She  joins  me  in  wishing  to  see  and  converse  with  you. 
Although  our  house,  under  the  present  circumstances 
of  our  family,  cannot  furnish  all  the  accommodation  I 
could  wish  for  a  friend,  yet  you  especially,  or  any  of 
my  Princeton  friends,  may  always  expect  to  receive  a 
hearty  welcome  from,  Yours,  &c., 

Eben.  Grant.' 


It  would  be  enlarging  too  much  on  the  de- 
tails of  early  hfe,  and  perhaps  on  the  feelings 
of  living  friends,  to  give  more  of  this  corre- 
spondence ;  suffice  it  to  say,  that  young  Ho- 
bart,  while  attached  to  a  chosen  few,  made 
himself  a  friend  to  many,  and  was  beloved  by 
all.     His  heart  was  ample  as  it  was  warm,  and 


150  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

no  individual  seems  ever  to  have  approached 
him,  who  either  needed  sympathy  or  sought 
aid,  vi^ithout  receiving  one  or  both.  On  some, 
the  impression  for  good  was  permanent  ;  on 
others,  no  doubt,  transient ;  all,  however,  speak 
of  him  in  terms  of  warm  regard.  '  Dear  Ho- 
bart,'  says  one,  of  whom  a  parting  letter  is 
incidentally  preserved,  '  both  Mr.  Hughes  and 
myself  are  under  great  obligations  to  you. 
We  would  wish  now,  and  always,  to  feel  them 
strongly,  and  to  acknowledge  them.  When  I 
think  how  highly  I  was  honored,  and  how  much 
I  was  benefited  by  your  friendship,  I  can 
scarcely  restrain  tears.'  The  language  of  an- 
other very  youthful  student  is  too  simple  and 
heartfelt  not  to  be  given  at  length.  His  aifec- 
tionate  gratitude  gives  a  pleasing  picture  of  the 
intercourse  that  subsisted  between  them.  They 
carry  back,  however,  the  narrative  to  an  earlier 
date. 

'  Princeton,  November  Gth,  1794. 
My  dear  Friend, 

I  arrived  here  last  evening  from  Brunswick,  and 
found  Forsyth's  patience  in  waiting  for  me  almost 
exhausted  ;  but  upon  hearing  the  reasons  of  my  delay 
he  was  fully  satisfied. 

This  day  we  took  possession,  by  leave  of  Mr.  Finley, 
of  our  room.  It  is  to  be  sure  not  a  very  warm  one  for 
the  winter  ;  but  the  idea  of  your  coming  to  live  with  us 


B  I  S  II  OP     H  0  B  ART.  151 

makes  me  much  more  contented  and  satisfied  than  I 
would  be  in  the  best  room  in  the  college  without 
you.  We  have  both,  I  trust,  set  down  with  a  full 
determination  to  apply  diligently  to  our  studies,  and  by 
our  conduct  to  make  ourselves  worthy  the  esteem  of 
the  faculty,  and  more  particularly  of  yours,  worthy 
friend. 

The  salutary  advice  you  have  and,  I  doubt  not,  will 
continue  to  give  me,  I  pray  Heaven  may  not  be  thrown 
away,  but  rather  that  I  may  employ  it  to  the  good  of 
myself  and  friend.  Thanks  be  to  that  God,  who  knows 
our  hearts  and  sees  all  our  deeds,  that  I  have  been  so 
happy  in  gaining  for  myself  so  good,  so  amiable,  and  so 
generous  a  friend  to  keep  my  erring  feet  in  right  paths, 
and  to  lay  a  firm  and  lasting  foundation  for  my  tem- 
poral and  eternal  happiness.  You  have  always  shown 
a  partiality  for  me,  and  I  know  not  why  even  this. 
Your  regard  for  me  while  I  was  an  entire  stranger 
among  the  students,  and  your  very  often  repeated  acts 
of  friendship  toward  me;  these,  independent  of  your 
real  merit,  of  which  I  then  had  but  a  slight  knowledge, 
could  not  fail  to  enkindle  in  me  the  liveliest  sparks  of 
true  and  genuine  esteem.  But  why  should  I  tell  you 
that  I  feel  an  attachment  for  you  beyond  what  I  can 
express  ?  sure  I  have  told  you  that  I  esteem  you  my 
best,  my  worthiest  friend. 

I  shall  expect  you,  dear  friend,  in  a  fortnight  or  three 
weeks  at  farthest ;  the  sooner  you  come,  the  sooner  you 
will  give  satisfaction  and  pleasure  to  Forsyth  and 
myself.  I  hoped,  when  I  arrived  from  Philadelphia 
here,  to  have  been  happy  in  acquainting  you  with  your 
mother's  good  health,  and  friends',  but  when  I  came 
you  had  gone  to  Philadelphia. 


152  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

Praying  that  you  may,  as  no  doubt  you  will,  receive 
the  reward  of  your  excelling  merit  in  this  world,  and 
after  this  transitory  existence  be  received  into  the 
paradise  above,  and  receive  the  crown  of  glory  prepared 
for  all  who  believe,  I  subscribe  myself. 

Your  sincere  and  affectionate  friend, 

Joseph  Warren  Scott. 

N.  B.  Forsyth  last  night  received  your  letter,  but  no 
entreaties  on  my  part  could  prevail  on  him  to  read  it 
to  me.' 

'  Nassau  Hall,  Princeton,  November  15th,  1794. 
My  dear  Friend^ 

Yours  of  the  10th  instant  I  received  on  Tuesday, 
and  enjoyed  more  satisfaction  than  I  can  express  to  you 
in  the  perusal  of  it.  Forsyth  also  received  one  last 
evening,  and  read  to  me  a  clause  from  it,  which  he  said 
was  addressed  to  both  of  us.  Though  this  intimate 
correspondence  affords  a  great  deal  of  pleasure,  your 
immediate  presence  would  give  me  more. 

Your  advice,  my  dear  friend,  I  assure  you,  is  always 
acceptable,  because  I  know  it  is  always  good.  Yet  I 
cannot  divine  why  you  are  so  very  urgent  with  us 
about  keeping  the  door  shut.  I  am  apprehensive  you 
think  we  have  a  great  many  intruders,  and  in  this  I 
wish  to  undeceive  you,  because  I  know  whatever  we  do 
right  gives  you  pleasure.  At  first  the  students  came  in 
great  numbers,  and  our  refusing  admittance  to  so  many 
daily  occasioned  complaint  against  us;  but  we  per- 
sisted in  what  you  had  taught  us,  and  what  we  thought 
of  ourselves  was  right,  and  by  so  doing,  at  length  freed 
ourselves  from  a  great  many  visiters  that  we  did  not 
want. 


BISHOP     HOBART.  153 

The  conduct  that  I  mentioned  in  my  last  I  meant  to 
pursue  toward  the  college  in  general,  and  my  fellow 
Whigs  in  particular,  (provided  it  met  with  your  appro- 
bation,) I  mean  still  to  maintain  till  I  hear  otherwise 
from  you. 

The  return  of  Mr.  Smith*  I  wait  with  impatience ; 
I  hope  it  will  not  be  more  than  three  or  four  days,  and 
that  you  will  be  here  in  a  week  at  farthest.  It  is  hardly 
fair  to  tell  tales,  but  to-day  a  circumstance  took  place 
which  I  am  sure  will  make  you  smile.       *     *     *     * 

I  must  also  complain  a  little  on  Robert  (Forsyth) 
about  copying  the  old  minutes.  He  has  not  written  a 
word  until  this  afternoon,  but  for  the  future  I  hope  he 
will  do  better ;  but  you  must  not  lash  him  too  severely, 
as  I  believe  I  am  almost  as  much  in  fault  as  he  i-:,  for 
not  telling  him  more  frequently  of  it. 

My  fingers  are  so  cold  that  I  can  hardly  write  any 
more.  I  remain,  and  wish  ever  to  remain,  your  sin- 
cere and  affectionate  friend, 

Joseph  Warren  Scott. 

N.  B.  I  shall  expect  a  letter  very  shortly,  and  a  long 

one  too.' 
/■ 

'  Nassau  Hall,  Princeton,  November  l'7th. 
My  dear  Friend, 

What  melancholy  tidings  does  this  bear  ?     It  is 

the    death   of  our   good    and   worthy   president,    (Dr. 

Witherspoon.)     On  Saturday  evening,  in  his  chair,  this 

good  old  man  met  the  last  common  enemy  of  man  with 

joy  and  cheerfulness.      And  why  should  he  not  ?     It 

would  set  a  final  period  to  trouble  and  suffering,  and 

*  Mr.  Hobart's  brother-in-law,  whose  absence  prevented  his 
return  to  college. 


151  MEMOIR     OF 

land  him  in  that  haven  of  eternal  peace,  where  is  the 
reward  of  his  labors  and  fidelity  to  his  Master's  trust. 

Full  of  days,  and  full  of  honors,  this  venerable  sage 
§^  has  left  us  to  deplore  his  loss  as  a  father  and  protector; 
but  he  has  also  left  us  an  example  truly  worthy  to  be 
imitated.  To-morrow  his  body  is  to  be  committed  to 
the  silent  grave.  Dr.  Smith  is,  I  believe,  to  pronounce 
a  funeral  sermon;  no  doubt  it  will  be  a  moving  and 
feeling  discourse. 

My  dear  friend,  I  must  really  ask  you  why  you 
neglect  to  write  to  me.  You  know  nothing  gives  me 
more  pleasure,  when  I  cannot  see  you.  Why  then  will 
you  voluntarily  rob  me  of  so  much  happiness  ? 

This  is  but  a  short  letter,  but  it  is  almost  prayer-time, 
and  therefore  I  cannot  continue  it.  I  remain,  my  dear 
Hobart,  your  friend,  and  to  continue  so. 

Joseph  Warren  Scott/ 

'  Nassau  Hall,  November  27th,  1794, 
My  dear  Friend, 

In  what  manner  to  apologize  for  my  great  neglect 
in  not  writing  to  one  who  has  ever  shown  toAvard  me 
kindness  far  beyond  what  I  deserve,  and  to  whom  I 
have  every  reason  to  believe  my  letters  are  always 
acceptable,  I  know  not,  especially  as  I  regard  you  as 
one  for  whom  I  ought,  and  I  hope  do  feel  a  tie  stronger 
than  that  alane  which  worth  can  inspire.  I  feel  proud 
of  such  a  friend,  and  at  the  same  time  am  conscious 
that  it  is,  and  no  doubt  will  be,  an  honor  to  me  in  what- 
ever station  I  am  placed  by  Providence;  but  I  have 
been  expecting  you  daily,  and  therefore  delayed  till  the 
present  time.  Indeed,  I  supposed  that  even  if  I  were 
not  to  write,  that  would  be  no  hindrance  to  you ;  for 


B  I  S  H  O  P     H  O  B  A  R  T.  155 

you  may  well  know,  even  if  I  do  not  write  frequently  to 
you,  (as  I  confess  I  have  neglected  to  do,)  my  thoughts 
are  oftentimes  employed  with  you,  anticipating  the 
time  when  I  shall  see  you  again,  and  know  that  you 
will  live  with  me. 

Forsyth  just  now  received  a  letter  from  you.  I  read 
in  his  countenance  marks  of  pleasure  which  could  not 
fail  of  producing  the  same  sensations  in  me,  though 
arising  from  a  different  cause. 

I  received  a  letter  a  few  days  ago  from  Terhune ;  he 
expects  that  you  will  write  him  immediately,  directing 
your  letters  to  Gravesend ;  but  I  must  study  at  ray 
lesson,  for  that  I  cannot  put  off.  Therefore,  I  bid  you 
good  night,  after  subscribing  myself. 

Your  sincere  friend, 

Joseph  Warren  Scott. 

P.  S.  I  was  just  in  Mr.  CaldwelPs  room,  and  told 
him  I  was  going  to  write  to  you  :  he  requested  me  to 
present  his  respects,  with  the  following  message,  viz. 
"  If  you  are  coming  be  expeditious,  or  otherwise  we  will 
not  have  a  sufficient  barrier  against  infidelity,  which  is 
spreading  its  dominion  far  and  wide."  This  stroke,  I 
apprehend,  is  meant  for  me.  He  knows  that  I  have 
been  reading  Hume,  and  is  frequently  giving  me  sharp 
strokes  about  my  belief.  I  have  said  that  I  thought 
reading  the  above-named  author  rendered  a  person  less 
bigoted  :  Caldwell  from  this  supposes  that  I  believe  all 
that  is  said  by  Hume.  Mr.  Finley  is  often  questioning 
me  about  your  coming,  when  it  will  be ;  he  seems 
impatiently  expecting  it. 

Your  affectionate  friend, 

Warren.' 


150  M  E  SI  0  I  R     O  F 

'  Nassau  Hall,  December  A. 
My  dear  Friend, 

1  just  now  received  your  inexplicable  letter  of  the 
3d  instant,  by  Dickson.  However,  all  your  letter  I  can 
understand  better  than  that  which  relates  to  infidelity. 
I  thought  I  might  mention  to  you  in  trust  the  lecture 
I  got  from  Caldwell  on  account  of  my  reading  Hume, 
and  the  reason  why  I  continued  reading  it,  because  I 
thought  it  made  me  more  candid  in  my  judgments. 
When  you  come  I  shall  have  a  better  opportunity  of 
showing  you  that  I  am  in  no  way  related  to  infidelity, 
only  not  bigoted.  That  part  of  your  letter  which  relates 
to  my  studies  I  shall  endeavor  to  profit  from  in  future, 
though  altogether  to  keep  my  thoughts  at  home  would 
be  disagreeable  to  my  feelings.  Forsyth  and  I  live  very 
agreeably  now.  When  you  come  we  shall  be  happy ; 
to  both  of  us  you  are  a  safe  resort  when  advice  is  re- 
quired, and  both  you  have  shown  yourself  willing  to 
assist  whenever  in  your  power.  My  dear  friend,  your 
presence  I  very  much  wish  for.  Mr.  Caldwell  expresses 
a  great  desire  to  see  you ;  he  by  this  sends  his  respects 
to  you.  Come,  dear  friend,  your  friends  are  impatiently 
expecting  you.  Write  to  me  quickly  if  you  do  not  come. 
Adieu,  my  dear  friend. 

Joseph  Warren  Scott. 

P.  S.  I  should  be  ashamed  to  let  such  a  letter  be  seen : 
then  I  request  you  only  to  read  it.' 

The  last  letter  from  this  warm-hearted  youth 
is  from  New-Brunswick,  New-Jersey,  though 
without  date,  except  *  Sunday  Morning : '  its 
P.  S.,  without  which  he  seems  never  to  have 
written,  is  in  these  words  : 


BISHOP     HOBART.  157 

'P.  S.  Show  this  letter  to  Forsyth;  tell  him  that 
I  very  often  think  of  him,  and  of  the  happy  hours  we 
have  spent  together,  and  in  vain  wish  them  to  return. 
I  shall  once  more  lay  claim  to  your  correspondence, 
though  I  see  you  have  entirely  forgotten  me;  but, 
Hobart,  whatever  has  been  my  conduct,  whatever  my 
appearance,  be  assured  I  never  have  suffered  a  diminu- 
tion of  that  affection  which  you  know  I  once  cherished 
for  you.     Tell  Forsyth  to  write  to  me.     Adieu. 

J.  W.  Scott.' 

On  the  superscription  is  added, 

'  If  Mr.  Hobart  is  not  at  Princeton,  Mr.  R.  M.  Forsyth 

is  requested  to  take  this  and  open  it. 

J.  W.  S.' 

Similar  feelings  of  personal  attachment  were 
excited  in  the  young  class  whose  charge  Mr.  H. 
undertook  after  his  return  to  college,  while  his 
own  toward  them  are  sufficiently  marked  in  his 
careful  preservation  of  their  parting  address. 

It  begins  in  these  words  :  —  '  We  cannot, 
Sir,  see  the  time  approaching  when  you  are  to 
leave  us,  without  testifying  in  strong  terms  our 
regret,  and  the  deep  sense  of  gratitude  im- 
pressed upon  us.  We  shall  long  remember  that 
period  of  youth  spent  under  your  care,'  &c. 

This  affectionate  farewell  was  found  among 
the  Bishop's  papers  at  his  death.  A  heart  like 
his  valued  such  records,  and  in  his  careful  pre- 
servation of  them  we  read  one  of  the  peculiarly 


f 


158 


MEMOIR     OF 


attractive  traits  of  his  character.  *  When  he 
became  a  man,'  he  put  not  away  all  childish 
things.  The  warm  and  tender  heart  never  left 
him,  and  as  relics  he  prized  all  its  early  remi- 
niscences. Indeed,  throughout  life  he  was 
sensitive  as  an  infant  to  every  mark  of  kind- 
ness, while  coldness  or  ingratitude  seemed  to 
cut  him  to  the  heart.  Amid  all  the  bustle  of 
life,  and  the  cares  of  a  most  busy  station,  what- 
ever addressed  itself  to  his  feelings  was  instantly 
uppermost  in  look,  word,  and  action  :  the 
'  child '  was  awakened  within  him,  and  its 
read}'  language  of  smiles  and  tears,  and  the 
affectionate  embrace  proved  how  little  change 
years,  or  the  world,  had  wrought  upon  his 
affectionate,  sensitive  nature. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

Cliangc  of  Destination — Enters  a  Counting-house — Call  to  a  Tutorship 
at  Princeton  —  Removal  —  Duties  —  Companions  —  Intimacy  with 
Young  Mercer — Letters. 

But  this  history  of  early  friendship  has  led 
the  narrative  beyond  the  date  of  events  to  which 
it  is  necessary  now  to  recur.  The  first  ap- 
pearance of  the  yellow  fever  in  Philadelphia, 
in  1793,  dispersed,  as  already  mentioned,  not 


BISHOP     HOB  ART.  159 

only  the  inhabitants  of  the  city,  but  the  stu- 
dents of  Princeton,  and  left  young  Hobart  not 
only  without  his  anticipated  honors,  but  even 
without  a  home.  The  consternation  produced 
by  this  then  unknown  pestilence,  for  it  was  its 
first  appearance  in  our  country,  is  forcibly 
painted  in  some  of  his  letters.  Believed  to  be 
infectious  as  the  plague,  all  fled  from  it  in 
horror.  Three-fourths  of  the  population  of 
Philadelphia  are  described  as  abandoning  their 
homes  ;  all  business  suspended,  all  ordinary 
ties  broken  through,  and  none  remaining  in 
the  devoted  city  but  wretched  sufferers,  and 
the  still  more  wretched  friends  with  whom  love 
was  stronger  than  death,  or  those  noble  few 
whom  a  high  sense  of  professional  duty  held 
around  them  ;  while  its  peopled  streets  are 
described  as  either  deserted,  or  frequented  by 
such  only  as  sought  gain  or  plunder  amid  the 
dying  and  the  dead. 

Such  is  the  fearful  picture  given  by  young 
Hobart  to  his  friend  Skinner,  while  urging  him 
to  awake  up  to  seriousness  upon  such  a  call, — 
admonitions  which  acquire  a  solemn  value  from 
the  reflection  that  it  was  to  this  very  pestilence 
this  amiable  young  man  was  soon  to  fall  a  vic- 
tim. After  parting  at  college,  these  friends 
met  once  aarain  before  their  final  separation. 
This   is   the   visit   already   mentioned,    which 


f 


160  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

young  Hobart  paid  to  Skinner  at  his  father's 
residence  on  Long-Island,  making  friends,  as 
it  seemed,  of  the  whole  family,  by  his  warm 
kind-heartedness,  even  down  to  *  little  negro 
Jack,'  who,  as  a  subsequent  letter  mentions, 
often  spoke  of  his  absence  *with  great  lament- 
ation.' But  on  his  friend's  mind  that  absence 
caused  a  more  lasting  and  rational  sorrow.  *  In 
being  deprived  of  my  dear  John,'  says  he,  '  I 
not  only  lose  a  friend,  but  one  of  the  most 
powerful  human  means  of  my  salvation,  for  I 
now  see  the  necessity  of  becoming  not  only 
virtuous,  but  a  professor  of  a  true  faith.  This 
I  shall  aim  to  become,  and  by  the  grace  of 
God,  through  his  Son,  do  I  hope  to  be  success- 
ful ;  that  this  may  be  the  case  shall  be  my 
earnest  prayer.  To  die,  to  a  sinner  is  death 
indeed,  but  to  a  good  man  is  a  happy  hour ; 
and  this  shows  us  the  necessity  of  being  at  all 
times  ready  to  meet  that  Judge  before  whom 
sinners  tremble.' 

Among  those  who  fled  from  the  pestilence  in 
Philadelphia,  were  Mrs.  Hobart  and  her  daugh- 
ter Mrs.  Smith,  with  her  family.  Her  son,  as 
already  mentioned,  joined  them  at  Frankfort, 
Pennsylvania,  where  he  found  his  brother-in- 
law  temporarily  established  in  the  same  mer- 
cantile business  from  which  he  had  been  driven 
in  the  city.     What  motives  were  here  urged  or 


B  I  S  H  O  P     HO  B  ART.  161 

of  themselves  operated  to  induce  young  Hobart 
to  enter  the  counting-house,  it  is  not  easy  to 
say.  He  speaks  indeed  of  *  the  wishes  of 
friends,  and  several  other  circumstances,'  but 
what  those  were  we  are  left  to  conjecture  ; 
most  probably  the  narrow  means  of  his  mother, 
and  the  prospect  of  a  speedier  independence 
for  her  relief:  but  however  right  the  motive,  it 
was  unquestionably  a  wrong  decision  ;  an  em- 
ployment in  which  not  only  his  peculiar  talents 
would  have  been  wholly  lost,  but  one  for  which 
he  wanted  even  that  single  talent  which  is  es- 
sential to  secure  success.  An  economist  in 
money  matters,  Mr.  Hobart  neither  was  nor 
ever  could  have  been  made  :  he  was  too  much 
the  creature  of  impulse,  and  that  impulse  had 
in  it  too  much  of  warm-hearted  sympathy,  for 
a  prudent  estimate  of  money.  In  his  own  per- 
sonal expenses  he  was  rather  indifferent  than 
frugal,  while  to  others  his  hand  like  his  heart 
was  ever  freely  open.  '  From  his  boyhood,' 
says  Professor  McLean,  of  Princeton,  '  this 
was  his  characteristic  trait.' 

That  a  sense  of  duty,  therefore,  rather  than 
choice  led  to  this  selection,  is  sufficiently 
evident ;  this  too  appears  from  his  letters : 
'  At  length,  my  dear  White,'  says  he,  in  one 
about  this  period,  *  the  close  of  my  collegiate 
studies  has  ushered  me  into  the  laborious  and 


« 


162  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

humble  station  of  a  merchant's  apprentice. 
The  change  is  too  great  for  me  as  yet  to  rejoice 
at  it  ;  nor  have  my  present  engagements  and 
amusements  effaced  the  remembrance  of  those 
I  enjoyed  at  college.  In  truth,  my  friend, 
those  were  the  happiest  that  have  yet  fallen 
to  my  lot ;  and  accuse  me  not  of  insensibility  to 
the  pleasures  of  life,  if  I  tell  you  that  the  anti- 
cipation of  my  future  probable  course  stamps 
a  yet  higher  value  on  them.' 

But  the  counting-house  could  not  separate 
him  from  his  brother  Whigs,  whose  interests 
and  pursuits,  however  remote  from  his  own, 
were  dear  to  him  as  ever.  His  letters  to 
Princeton  are  filled  with  advice  and  exhort- 
ations calculated  to  direct  or  arouse  them  to 
guard  well  the  palm  of  academic  victory  they 
had  won.     The  following  is  a  specimen. 

'  Philadelphia^  December  9th,  1793. 
My  dear  Tom, 

By  this  tender  though  familiar  appellation  I  address 

you ;  by  it  I  distinguished  you  when  my  fellow-student 

and  room-mate,  and  the  remembrance  of  college  scenes 

and  engagements  I  wish  never   to   lose.      This  very 

moment,  while  engaged  in  realizing  the  happy  scenes 

which  college  once  presented,  a  gloom  overspreads  my 

mind.     You  will  not  ask  wherefore?     But  yet  I  take 

pleasure  in  reviewing  them.     Strange   constitution  of 

the  human  mind  !  but  no  less  wise  than  strange ;  for 

the  exercise  of  those  feelings  ennobles  man,  renders  him 


BISHOPHOBART.  163 

alive  to  the  wants  and  sorrows  of  his  fellow-creatures, 
and  endears  the  man  of  sensibility  as  the  instrument  of 
happiness,  and  the  object  of  love,  veneration,  and  grati- 
tude. But,  my  dear  Tom,  I  should  not  dwell  on  the 
subject  of  my  separation  from  college,  did  I  not  take 
pleasure  in  indulging  and  expressing  such  thoughts 
to  one  v/hose  heart  is  alive  to  many  tender  feelings. 
******* 
It  is  with  singular  satisfaction  I  learn  from  your 
letter,  that  the  society  is  likely  to  maintain  its  respect- 
ability, and  which  the  honorable  exertions  of  the  mem- 
bers will  always  secure  to  it.  For  this  reason  I  am 
glad  to  find  that  those  who  have  already  become  Whigs, 
are  young  men  of  sound  judgment  and  good  moral 
character.  May  you  have  many  such  !  I  know  it  will 
prosper  if  its  members  cherish  a  warm  and  disinterested 
attachment  to  its  welfare.  This  will  give  rise  to  dili- 
gence, unanimity,  friendship,  and  every  other  virtue 
which  can  advance  its  honor.  Diligent  attention  to 
the  exercises,  caution  in  making  innovations,  and  cool- 
ness and  deliberation  in  determining  on  measures, — 
these  are,  I  am  well  satisfied,  particularly  necessary  to 
the  internal  concord  and  peace  of  the  institution. 

Yours,  &c. 

J.  H.  HOBART. 

To  one  of  the  new  members  he  writes  as 
follows  :  it  is  his  first  letter  to  young  Scott,  of 
whom  mention  has  already  been  made. 

*  Philadelphia^  June  11th,  1794. 
My  dear  Warren, 

Perhaps  you  may  be  a  little  surprised  at  hearing 
from  me.     Xhough  on  your  entrance  into  college  I  was 


164  M  E  M  O  I  R     0  F 

a  stranger  to  you,  yet  you  showed  for  me  an  esteem 
and  affection  which  in  the  same  situation  I  have  expe- 
rienced from  few,  and  I  should  think  myself  possessed 
of  a  strange  insensibility,  if  your  expression  of  attach- 
ment to  me  did  not  excite  in  my  breast  a  corresponding 
emotion. 

Whenever  I  have  had  an  opportunity  I  have  inquired 
after  you,  and  it  has  given  me  the  greatest  pleasure 
to  hear  of  the  honorable  character  you  have  maintained 
in  your  class.  I  have  no  doubt  but  what  you  are  able, 
and  I  hope  will  continue  to  preserve  this  character ;  for 
I  am  persuaded  you  will  derive  the  greatest  satisfaction 
from  a  reflection  on  the  proficiency  you  have  made, 
and  the  consciousness  of  being  the  object  of  esteem 
with  those  under  whose  care  you  are  placed,  and  who 
will  always  take  pleasure  in  rewarding  merit. 

The  period  of  life  at  which  you  are  is  very  important ; 
every  moment  of  time  is  valuable.  Your  fortune, 
honor,  respectability,  and  happiness  as  a  man,  depend 
upon  the  proper  improvement  of  your  present  advan- 
tages. But  this,  it  may  be,  is  not  a  new  idea.  You 
have,  doubtless,  often  heard  it,  and  certainly  act  under 
it  more  than  many  who  are  your  superiors  in  age  and 
experience.  Yet  still  you  cannot  too  often  think  of  the 
value  of  time,  and  the  necessity  of  early  acquiring 
habits  of  attention  and  diligence.  I  am  sure  you  must 
derive  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  and  improvement  from 
the  Society.  Attention  to  your  duties  there  will  exer- 
cise your  judgment,  and  greatly  advance  your  progress 
in  literature.  I  am  sure  you  must  feel  an  attachment 
to  it.  Ardently  then  pursue  its  interests.  When 
called  upon  to  act  in  any  office,  seek  carefully  and 
attentively  for  what  is  your  duty,  and  then  let  no  con- 


BISHOPHOBART.  165 

sideration  of  popularity,  no  fear  of  offending,  deter  you 
from  the  performance  of  it.  By  this  conduct  you  will 
in  the  end  gain  reputation,  beside  enjoying  the  appro- 
bation of  your  own  mind.  Let  prudence,  perseverance, 
calmness,  and  judgment,  mark  all  your  actions,  and  I 
have  no  doubt  but  what  you  will  advance  the  honor 
and  prosperity  of  the  institution.  It  is  worthy  of  your 
warmest  attachment,  and  demands  your  most  zealous 
endeavors.        *#**#* 

I  am  much  pleased,  my  dear  Warren,  to  hear  that 
you  are  to  have  an  opportunity  of  doing  so  on  the  4th 
July,  and  I  have  no  doubt,  my  dear  boy,  but  what  you 
will  be  successful.  It  will  give  me  pleasure  to  hear 
from  you  when  you  have  leisure;  and  believe  that  I 
remain  with  affection,  my  dear  Warren, 
Your  sincere  friend, 

J.  H.  HOBART.' 

With  such  thoughts  uppermost  in  his  mind, 
it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  his  mercantile 
occupations  soon  became  distasteful.  He  gave 
them,  however,  a  fair  trial.  As  inclination 
had  not  led  him  to  this  course  of  life,  so 
neither  did  he  allow  want  of  inclination  to 
drive  him  from  it,  and  returning  with  Mr.  Smith 
to  Philadelphia,  as  soon  as  safety  permitted, 
he  devoted  himself  to  the  duties  of  the  counting- 
house,  through  the  ensuing  winter,  with  all  his 
constitutional  ardor.  But  nature  and  educa- 
tion united  were  too  strong  for  him,  so  that 
even   his   brother-in-law  writes    to   a    friend, 


166  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

*  John  does  not  discover  any  talents  for  a 
mercantile  life  ;  his  taste  and  views  are  all 
decidedly  literary.'  We  are  not  surprised, 
therefore,  to  find  him,  after  a  few  months,  in 
a  letter  to  a  young  friend,  holding  this  lan- 
guage :  '  I  am  tired  of  the  mercaritile  business, 
or  rather  I  feel  a  greater  inclination  for  some- 
thing else.  It  is  so  serious  I  cannot  tell  it  you 
now.'  What  this  preference  was  may  easily 
he  conjectured  ;  to  his  friend  Skinner  he  freely 
unbosomed  himself.  '  How  I  should  rejoice,' 
says  he,  '  were  we  both  to  embrace,  from  pure 
and  holy  views,  that  sacred  office,  in  which  if 
we  faithfully  performed  our  duty  on  earth,  we 
should  enjoy  the  greatest  happiness  here,  and 
hereafter  shine  as  stars  in  the  firmament  of 
heaven.' 

But  still  it  was  with  fear  and  tremblinor 
he  took  up  the  resolution.  In  a  letter  of 
June  16th,  1794,  he  observes  :  '  I  still  have  in 
view  the  ministry.  O  what  an  awful  under- 
taking !  I  am  afraid  that  my  motives  for  it 
are  not  sufficiently  pure  ;  that  I  have  not  suffi- 
ciently in  view  the  sacred  ends  for  which  it 
was  instituted— the  turning  of  many  to  repent- 
ance, and  building  them  up  in  the  faith  of 
God  and  of  a  blessed  Saviour.  But  I  hope 
that  God,  for  Christ's  sake,  will  bless  me, 
and  that  he  will  make  me  in  his  hands,  the 


B  I  S  H  OP     HOB  ART.  167 

humble  instrument  of  turning  many  to  righte- 
ousness.' In  a  subsequent  one  of  October 
21st,  he  repeats  his  fears  :  '  My  views  still 
continue  the  same  with  respect  to  my  profes- 
sion. I  am  anxious  to  engage  in  the  ministry, 
but  I  am  afraid  I  have  not  a  proper  sense  of 
the  importance  of  the  duties  connected  with  it, 
or  of  the  qualifications  it  requires.  In  the 
latter  I  know  I  am  deficient.  I  daily  become 
more  sensible,  to  use  a  scriptural  and  very 
just  expression,  with  "  the  plague  of  my  own 
heart."  "  It  is,  indeed,  deceitful  above  all 
things,  and  desperately  wicked."  It  is  useless 
indeed  for  me  to  lament  this,  while  exertion 
on  my  part  is  wanting.  Yet  I  rejoice  that 
Christ  has  made  a  sufficient  atonement  for 
my  sins,  and  that  through  faith  in  him  the 
chief  of  sinners  may  be  reconciled  to  God. 
In  this  character  would  I  seek  a  merciful  God, 
and  beseech  him,  by  the  merits  and  atonement 
of  his  crucified  Son,  to  pardon  my  sins,  to 
rectify  my  nature,  to  subdue  the  power  of  sin 
within  me,  and  to  make  me  holy  in  heart  and 
life.' 

Such  were  the  workings  of  his  humble  and 
deeply  spiritual  mind,  and  such  the  preparation 
of  a  heart  which  in  after-life,  by  those  who 
knew  it  not,  was  charged  with  being  ignorant 
of  the   feelings   of  vital   religion.     Nor  were 


168  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

those  feelings  changed  by  years  —  he  died  as 
he  had  Hved,  in  the  expression  of  them. 
Among  his  last  words  were,  '  Bear  me  witness, 
I  have  no  merit  of  my  own  :  as  a  guilty  sinner 
I  go  to  my  Saviour,  casting  all  my  reliance  on 
him,  on  the  atonement  of  his  blood.' 

Within  a  few  months  after  he  had  entered 
the  counting-house,  a  letter  was  received  by 
him,  which,  with  his  own  inward  whisperings, 
must  have  fully  satisfied  even  his  doubting 
mind  of  his  fitness  for  higher  things.  This 
was  an  unsolicited  call  from  the  authorities  at 
Princeton,  inviting  him  to  the  station  of  college 
tutor.  The  invitation  was  a  flattering  one. 
As  a  youth  of  eighteen,  it  was  a  high  compli- 
ment to  his  acquisitions  and  judgment ;  as  an 
Episcopalian,  it  was  an  equally  high  one  to  his 
integrity  and  candor  ;  and  doubly  gratifying, 
in  both  respects,  as  coming  from  those  who 
were  best  acquainted  with  both  his  sentiments 
and  talents.  The  following  letters  communi- 
cate both  the  offer  and  his  acceptance  of  it. 

'  Princeton^  November  18th,  1793. 
Dear  Sir, 

It  has  been  suggested  that  your  own  inclinations 
would  lead  you  to  pursue  your  liberal  studies  to  a  greater 
extent,  and  that  a  residence  at  Princeton  would  not  be 
disagreeable  to  you,  in  order  to  have  the  more  leisure 
for  improvement.     Although  I  have  reason  to  believe 


BI  S  no  P     H  0  B  ART.  169 

that  advantageous  proposals  will  be  made  you  by  Mr.  S., 
yet  I  have  been  desired  to  inquire  whether  or  not  you 
will  accept  of  an  appointment  in  college,  in  the  room  of 
Mr.  Abeel.  I  know  not  your  private  views,  nor  how 
such  a  situation  would  accord  with  your  ideas ;  but  if 
you  were  willing  to  accept  the  appointment,  there  is  no 
person  who  would  more  unanimously  obtain  it ;  and,  I 
must  say  for  myself,  it  would  be  peculiarly  agreeable  to 
me.  Your  answer  to  this  inquiry,  by  the  first  post,  will 
very  much  oblige,  dear  Sir, 

Your  very  humble  servant, 

Samuel  S.  Smith.' 

'  Philadelphia,  November  23d,  1793, 
Sir, 

I  must  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  your  letter  of  the 
18th  instant,  and  should  have  sooner  paid  it  the  neces- 
sary attention,  had  not  its  contents,  interesting  in  a  high 
degree  to  my  future  welfare  and  happiness,  required 
consideration.  The  confidence  of  the  faculty,  with 
which  I  am  so  unexpectedly  honored,  excites  in  my 
mind  a  lively  gratitude,  accompanied  by  a  feeling  con- 
viction of  the  necessity  of  the  most  unremitted  exertions 
on  my  part  to  fulfil  with  honor  the  office  they  would 
confer  upon  me.  A  desire  to  pursue  with  advantage 
studies  of  a  liberal  nature,  and  also  to  have  leisure  for 
reflection  and  improvement,  have  induced  me  to  look 
upon  a  residence  at  Princeton  as  desirable ;  and  I  had 
it  in  contemplation,  with  the  consent  of  my  friends,  to 
remove  there  to  pursue  my  studies  in  a  private  capacity. 
But  as  the  offer,  to  which  your  letter  has  reference, 
would  afford  a  greater  scope  for  improvement,  my  own 
wishes,  and  of  consequence  the  consent  of  my  friends, 
lead  to  the  acceptance  of  it.     At  the  same  time,  I  repeat 


170  ^I  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

the  declaration,  that  I  am  fully  sensible  the  greatest 
exertions  on  my  part  could  alone  qualify  me  for  the 
honorable  discharge  of  its  important  duties.  These  I 
can  safely  promise,  from  a  principle  of  duty,  "will  not 
be  wanting.  The  wish  of  the  faculty  on  this  subject 
should  be  handed  to  me  by  the  first  opportunity,  as  im- 
mediate preparations  will  be  necessary.  With  a  high 
sense  of  the  honor  conferred  upon  me  by  the  confidence 
of  the  faculty,  and  of  your  kind  wishes  with  respect  to 
my  future  engagements,  I  remain  their  and  your 
Most  obliged  servant, 

John  H.  Hobart.' 

f 

The  following  letter  is  to  an  old  college 
friend,  written  from  Princeton  soon  after  his 
second  return  to  it,  though  it  would  seem  as 
yet  with  no  official  appointment. 

'  Princeton,  July  25th,  1794. 
Dear  Sir, 

The  receipt  of  your  letter  of  2d  June  gave  me  very 
great  pleasure.  I  was  fearful  mine  had  miscarried.  In 
this  situation  your  letter  was  peculiarly  acceptable.  I 
have  not  as  yet  found  reason  to  alter  an  opinion  I  early 
adopted,  that  the  portion  of  life  spent  in  the  place  of  our 
education  is  the  happiest.  The  engagements  of  future 
life,  then  beheld  at  a  distance,  promise  happiness.  The 
field  of  science  lies  before  us,  and  we  think  we  can 
never  be  tired  traversing  it.  Thus  happy  in  our  present 
engagements,  and  in  the  anticipation  of  those  that  are 
to  come,  the  season  of  youth  glides  away.  But,  in  fact, 
man  is  ever  anticipating  happiness :  and  does  not  this 
clearly  prove  that  he  is  to  exist  hereafter  ?    Does  it  not 


B  I  S  H  0  P     H  0  B  A  R  T.  171 

prove  that  this  life  was  never  designed  to  afford  him 
complete  enjoyment  ?  Does  it  not  enforce  the  necessity 
of  his  directing  his  attention  to  that  life  to  which  both 
reason  and  revelation  teach  him  this  is  only  an  intro- 
duction? And  yet  how  few  make  this  natural  and 
obvious  improvement !  Science,  honor,  riches,  pleasure, 
are  ardently  pursued,  but  the  qualifications  for  a  future 
state  of  being  are  little  sought  after.  Men  live  here  as 
if  they  were  to  live  here  for  ever,  or  as  if,  at  the  close  of 
this  life,  an  everlasting  sleep  were  to  level  them  with 
the  brutes  that  perish. 

I  have  relinquished  mercantile  business,  and  intend 
to  spend  the  summer  here  in  reading.  I  returned  with 
great  satisfaction  to  the  scenes  of  my  former  improve- 
ment and  pleasure.  They  strongly  recall  to  my  mind 
those  with  whom  I  spent  my  time  so  agreeably ;  and  I 
seldom  enter  the  rooms  of  my  former  companions  with- 
out thinking  of  them.  College  is  very  full.  The  Whigs 
are  superior  alike  in  numbers  and  merit ;  and  if  they 
continue  to  act  with  the  same  prudence,  will  increase 
the  dignity  and  honor  of  the  Society.  There  is  every 
prospect  of  their  obtaining  the  highest  honors  at  the 
ensuing  Commencement,  and,  if  we  may  judge  from 
present  appearances,  many  future  ones.  This  informa- 
tion, I  know,  will  give  you  pleasure.' 

In  answer,  his  friend  observes : 

'  You  tell  me  you  have  declined  the  pursuit  of  mer- 
cantile business.  I  applaud  your  resolution.  Do  not 
suppose  I  flatter  when  I  say,  I  have  always  thought  you 
well  calculated  for  some  profession  where  oratorical 
talent  might  be  displayed.  The  mercantile  business  is 
suited  to  those  who  have  not  had  your  opportunities. 


172  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

Besides  the  profit,  nothing  can  be  said  in  its  praise. 
But  most  professions  are  profitable  as  well  as  that,  and 
besides,  put  a  man  in  the  line  of  honor  and  preferment. 
The  professional  man,  too,  is  better  calculated  for  ren- 
dering services  to  society,  —  no  small  source  of  comfort 
to  him.  But  what  do  you  mean  to  pursue  after  you 
leave  Princeton?  Let  me  invite  you  to  the  study  of  the 
law.  My  best  wishes  attend  the  Whig  Society.  The 
institution  will  be  remembered  to  my  latest  moments. 
If  any  of  my  old  acquaintances  are  at  Princeton  make 
my  regards  to  them. 

Your  sincere  friend, 

W.  M.  Watkins.  ' 

The  contemplated  college  arrangement, 
however  mutually  desirable  and  desired  as  it 
might  seem,  did  not  yet  take  effect  until  near 
two  years  afterward.  On  the  present  occasion 
the  failure  arose  on  part  of  the  college,  from 
some  misunderstanding  not  very  clearly  ex- 
plained, and  the  place  was  filled  with  another, 
though,  as  was  stated  to  Mr.  H.,  *  temporarily.' 
But,  in  the  mean  time,  his  own  views  of  its  de- 
sirableness were  changed,  or  rather  fluctuated, 
bringing  his  mind  into  that  painful  state  of 
doubt  which  often  besets  the  young  when 
called  upon  to  decide  their  course  in  life.  On 
such  occasion  the  mental  vision  becomes  con- 
fused :  like  the  eye  of  a  landsman  at  sea,  it 
looks  into  a  hazy  atmosphere,  where  it  mis- 
takes alike  the  size,  distance,  and  shapes  of 


B  I  S  11  O  P     H  OB  ART.  173 

objects.  Thus  it  was  with  our  inexperienced 
collegian.  Touching  an  offer  precisely  the 
same  in  the  conclusion  as  at  the  beginning,  he 
concurred,  retracted,  hesitated,  declined,  and 
finally  accepted. 

Now  this  unimportant  circumstance  is  here 
noticed,  because  in  after-life  his  decisions  bore 
such  an  opposite  character,  being  so  rapid  and 
unwavering  as  to  look  more  like  instinct  than 
reflection,  and  with  such  a  clear  forecast  of 
consequences,  that  we  might  almost  apply  to 
him  the  eulogium  of  the  Roman  orator,  '  Pru- 
dentiam  ejus  quodammodo  esse  divinationem.'  * 
But  this  chan<?e  was  obviously  one  not  of 
character,  but  of  circumstance  :  the  same 
conscientiousness  which  made  him  doubtful 
when  ignorant,  made  him  firm  when  instructed ; 
and  the  same  sagacity  which  in  youth  made 
his  intellectual  perceptions  too  acute  for  his 
judgment,  was  the  very  source,  in  after-life,  of 
that  promptitude  of  choice,  and  perseverance 
in  action,  which  made  him,  both  in  deliberation 
and  act,  the  admiration  of  his  friends,  and  the 
dread  of  his  opponents.  It  was  (to  repeat  the 
analogy)  the  same  eye  looking  out  into  the 
same  misty  atmosphere,  but  now  guided  by  a 
seaman's  judgment,  and  aided  by  the  telescope 
of  experience. 

♦  Nef  08  m  Cic. 


174  M  E  M  0  I  R     0  F 

Few,  indeed,  better  than  Bishop  Hobart, 
deserved  the  praise  once  bestowed  upon  The- 
mistocles,  of  being  *  a  good  guesser  of  the 
future  by  the  past ; '  his  official  Ufe  having 
been  mostly  spent  in  the  maintenance  of  a 
policy  which  anticipated  the  results  of  ex- 
perience, and  the  opposition  he  met  with 
being  that  which  awaits  all  men  in  public 
life  whose  sagacity  foresees  consequences  be- 
yond the  vision  of  those  with  whom  they  are 
called  upon  to  act.  Nor,  in  truth,  was  the 
argument  on  this  occasion  one  so  easily 
summed  up.  On  the  one  side,  as  he  rightly 
argued,  were  *  the  advantages  the  situation 
would  give  for  study  and  reflection  ; '  on  the 
other,  that  *  the  duties  of  the  office  would 
require  more  ability  and  experience  than  he 
possessed  at  his  early  age.'  '  The  association 
to  which  it  would  lead  him  with  men  of  talents 
and  information,'  was  certainly  an  advantage  ; 
but  to  this  there  was  to  be  set  in  opposition, 
that  '  he  would  be  obliged  to  shake  off  many 
pleasing  intimacies  with  the  students  ; '  and 
while  he  appreciated  '  the  advantage  of  being 
called  to  direct  and  influence  the  conduct  of 
others,  as  fitting  him  for  active  intercourse 
with  mankind,'  he  yet  felt  the  '  loss  of  being 
unable  to  participate  in  the  enjoyments  of 
that  Society  in  whose  business  and  discussions 


B  I  S  H  O  P     H  0  B  AR  T.  175 

he  had  always  taken  so  conspicuous  a  part.' 
As  an  EpiscopaUan,  he  doubted  the  prudence 
or  dehcacy  of  becoming  an  officer  in  a  semi- 
nary, practically,  if  not  professedly,  Presby- 
terian ;  and,  as  an  affectionate  son,  he  felt 
very  unwilling  to  separate  himself  from  an 
aged  mother.  '  My  friends,'  says  he,  in  a 
letter  to  Skinner,  '  though  they  acquiesce  in 
this  scheme,  are  averse  to  it.  It  is  their  wish 
that  I  should  be  with  them.  My  mother,  also, 
would  lose  a  great  part  of  her  happiness,  were 
I  to  be  away  from  her.  She  is  now  in  the 
decline  of  life.  Her  children's  happiness  and 
interests  have  been  the  object  of  all  her  exer- 
tions, and  these  now  demand  from  them  every 
attention  which  it  is  in  their  power  to  render. 
Uncertain  how  long  she  may  be  with  us,  I 
cannot  think  of  leaving  her.  She  and  all  my 
other  relations,  however,  wish  me  to  go  if  I 
think  it  would  be  most  to  my  advantage  and 
interest.' 

Now  this  turmoil  of  contending  motives 
was  a  state  of  mind  certainly  not  desirable, 
perhaps  not  needful  in  the  case  ;  and  yet, 
on  the  whole,  it  had  its  disciplining  advan- 
tages :  it  deepened  his  knowledge  of  human 
nature,  by  making  him  better  acquainted  with 
his  own  character  ;  it  opened  up  to  him  the 
common  springs  of  action  in  the  breast,  and 


176  M  E  M  O  I  R     0  F 

thus  contributed  to  arm  him  for  future  contest 
with  the  wills  of  others,  by  teaching  him  where 
lay  the  weak  points  of  his  own. 

In  estimating  the  causes  which  form  the 
youthful  mind,  too  much  stress  is  generally 
laid  upon  external  aids  and  circumstances.  It 
is  doubtless  the  inward  discipline  that  tells  the 
most  :  the  battle  of  passion  within,  once  fought 
and  won,  is  worth  volumes  for  teaching  us 
how  victory  is  to  be  gained  ;  and  he  who  has 
once  been  called  upon,  as  young  Hobart  here 
was,  to  hold  the  balance  long  and  even,  in 
some  great  and  dubious  decision  of  life,  has 
learned  more  than  either  books  or  men  can 
teach  him,  by  what  weights  the  scales  of 
judgment  are  turned,  and,  what  is  still  more 
practical,  how  to  manage  those  nicer  scruples 
by  which  the  trembling  beam  is  finally  deter- 
mined. Even  when  the  judgment  is  wrong  in 
such  emergencies,  the  benefit  is  not  therefore 
lost,  since  error  may  be  a  yet  deeper  teacher 
than  truth,  and  painful  experience  of  our  own 
mistakes  but  render  more  searching  the  coun- 
sels of  future  friendship.  In  either  case,  where 
there  is  sincerity  of  purpose,  the  advantage  is 
gained  of  learning  the  human  heart  —  in  its 
length  and  breadth  and  depth  —  in  its  fears, 
its  hopes,  its  weaknesses,  and  its  strength. 
One    thus    trained    by    self-discipline,    when 


BISHOP     HOBART.  177 

called  to  be  a  spiritual  or  prudential  monitor 
to  others,  feels  himself  as  a  guide  through  a 
country  with  which  he  is  familiar .  he  will 
therefore  fill  not  the  ear  with  words,  but  the 
mind  with  thoughts,  and  the  heart  with  confi- 
dence ;  the  doubting  wanderer  yielding  himself 
at  once  to  a  guide  whose  eye  is  so  clear,  and 
whose  step  so  firm  and  unhesitating. 

Although  there  may  be  no  sufficient  ground 
for  attributing  so  large  an  influence  to  this 
particular  passage  of  young  Hobart's  life, 
there  is  yet  no  question  that  he  had  early 
acquired,  in  a  singularly  eminent  degree,  the 
governing  talent  of  leading  all  minds  that  came 
in  contact  with  his  own  ;  and  there  can  be 
as  little  doubt,  on  all  the  principles  of  sound 
philosophy,  that  the  self-experience  to  which 
the  earlier  events  of  his  life  led  him,  by  throw- 
ing him  much  upon  his  own  resources,  was 
the  training  that  gave  it  to  him. 

The  following  letter  to  his  mother  marks 
the  period  of  his  second  entrance  on  academic 
duties. 

*  Princeton,  October  31st,  1795. 
I  think  of  you,  my  dear  Mamma,  much  oftener  than 
I  write  to  you ;  and  whenever  I  do,  I  wish  very  much 
to  be  with  you.  I  lament  sometimes  that  I  cannot 
enjoy  the  advantages  of  my  present  situation,  and  at 
the  same  time  the  company  of  my  dear  mother  and  all 

8* 


178  MEMOIR     OF 

whom  I  love  in  Philadelphia ;  but  this  is  more  than  I 
have  any  right  to  expect.  I  hope,  hoAvever,  when  I 
have  made  more  proficiency  in  my  studies,  to  spend 
some  time  again  at  home  before  entering  on  my  profes- 
sion. Afterward  it  seems  uncertain  where  I  shall  be ; 
but  wherever  it  shall  please  God  to  place  me,  I  trust  I 
shall  be  contented ;  and,  indeed,  how  can  I  be  other- 
wise when  I  reflect  that  he  hath  placed  me  there! 

Much  as  I  suffered,  and  still  do  suffer,  from  the 
deprivation  of  a  very  dear  friend,  I  yet  feel  the  fullest 
conviction  that  it  was  intended  for  my  good ;  and  I 
humbly  trust  that  in  some  degree  at  least  it  has  had 
this  effect.  I  feel  more  disposed  than  ever  I  did  to 
perform  faithfully  every  duty  arising  from  my  relations 
to  this  world.  I  feel  more  anxious  than  ever  to  qualify 
myself  for  the  important  and  sacred  office  which  I  have 
in  view ;  but  I  have  been  taught  no  longer  to  look  for 
complete  happiness  here ;  and  while  I  feel  grateful  for 
every  blessing  I  possess,  yet  do  I  look  for  perfect  enjoy- 
ment only  in  another  world.  In  proportion  as  I  profit 
by  this  lesson,  I  feel  contented  and  liappy.  Till  lately  I 
felt  anxious  and  troubled  about  many  things  which  I 
now  consider  as  of  little  importance.  Relying  too  much 
upon  myself  and  upon  the  world,  I  experienced 
frequently  a  great  deal  of  uneasiness,  which  I  am  now 
delivered  from  when  reflecting  on  the  infinite  wisdom 
and  goodness  of  an  Almighty  Parent.  Thus  what  is 
itself  the  cause  of  my  sorrow,  tends  to  my  real  advan- 
tage. I  am  thus  free  in  writing  to  you,  my  dear 
Mamma,  because  I  think  it  will  give  you  satisfaction ; 
and  I  feel  so  sensibly  how  much  you  have  done  for 
me,  that  I  would  wish  to  make  you  every  return  in  my 
power. 


B  I  S  H  O  P     H  O  B  A  R  T.  179 

I  have  received  a  letter  from  Colonel  Skinner,  and 
also  one  from  Miss  Skinner,  in  answer  to  those  which 
I  wrote.  When  I  have  an  opportunity  I  will  let  you 
see  them. 

I  am  perfectly  well,  and  you  may  depend  I  shall 
never  neglect  my  health.  As  I  unite  a  proper  degree  of 
exercise  with  study,  I  am  under  no  apprehension  of 
injuring  myself  in  that  way ;  and  I  shall  endeavor  to 
correct  in  that  which  you  mention. 

Forsyth  stays  here  all  the  vacation,  which,  you  may 
be  sure,  gives  me  pleasure.  He  joins  in  love  to  my 
dear  mamma  with  her  sincerelv  affectionate 

John  H.  Hobart.' 

In  January,  1796,  be  entered  upon  his  new 
duties,  taking  about  tbe  same  time  his  second 
academic  degree  of  A.  M.  Some  yet  live  who 
remember  him  as  college  tutor,  and  all  con- 
cur in  giving  to  him  a  character  peculiarly 
well  fitted  for  duties,  which  in  his  humility  he 
esteemed  himself  unequal  to.  *  As  an  officer, 
prompt  and  efficient ;  as  an  instructer,  able 
and  successful,' — '  in  manner,  alike  firm  and 
conciliatory  ;  dignified,  yet  unassuming  ; '  — 
'  vehement  in  emotion,  but  moderate  in  action ; 
earnest  in  reproof,  yet  mild  in  punishment,'  — 
all  these  traits  go  to  mark  him  such  a  tutor,  as 
good  students  must  have  loved,  bad  ones  feared, 
and  all  respected.  But  the  original  sources  of 
this  information  are  too  honorable  to  him  to  be 
witliheld. 


180  ,  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

'  He  was,'  says  Dr.  Caldwell,*  as  *  an  in- 
structer  ardent,  industrious,  and  faithful,  and 
always  acted  upon  principle  and  conscience  in 
the  discharge  of  his  duties.  He  was  prompt 
in  action  and  expression  ;  sometimes  vehe- 
ment, and  in  danger  of  a  little  transport,  but 
ready  afterward  to  admit  it,  and  conceding 
with  a  becoming  manliness  of  spirit.  In  his 
tutorship  he  maintained  himself  with  a  sense 
of  danger  on  these  accounts,  and  was  con- 
sidered as  interesting  by  a  union  of  earnestness 
with  simplicity  and  ingenuousness  of  feeling.' 

A  letter  to  him  from  Princeton,  during  his 
absence,  introduces  the  name  of  another  friend, 
upon  whose  pen  we  shall  also  draw  for  a  pic- 
ture, while  the  letter  itself  affords  a  proof  of 
the  kindly  feelings  with  which  he  was  every 
where  regarded.  *  I  returned  on  Friday,'  says 
Henry  KoUock,  '  to  Nassau,  after  spending  a 
vacation  diversified  with  different  hues.  The 
college  will  probably  continue  with  very  few 
students  this  session.  Mr.  Beasley  has  been 
here  some  time.  I  am  highly  pleased  with  him 
from  my  short  acquaintance,  and  anticipate 
much  pleasure  in  his  society.  Good  Mrs. 
Knox  thinks  of  you  with  the  same  affection, 
and  talks  of  you  with  the  same  kindness  which 

*  Rev.  Joseph  Caldwell,  D.  D.,  President  of  University  of 
North-Carolina,  Chapel  Hill. 


BISHOP     HOBART.  181 

she  always  entertained  for  you.  She  charges 
me  to  remember  her  to  you  in  the  tenderest 
manner.' 

'In  the  fall  of  1795,'  says  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Beasley,  the  friend  above  alluded  to,  '  com- 
menced my  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Hobart. 
Never  shall  I  forget  the  impression  produced 
upon  my  mind  by  my  first  introduction  to  him, 
and  the  conversation  which  followed.  Having 
myself  just  entered  the  college  at  Princeton  as 
an  under-graduate  of  the  junior  class,  upon  some 
occasion  of  business  in  which  his  advice  was 
solicited,  I  was  conducted  into  the  room  which 
he  occupied  as  his  study,  and  saw  a  youth  of 
no  very  prepossessing  appearance,  (at  least  to 
me  at  that  period,)  seated  at  his  desk,  and 
engaged  in  the  study  of  theology.  I  beheld 
before  me  a  figure  of  middling  size,  sallow 
complexion,  features  somewhat  irregular,  a 
countenance  obscured  in  its  expression  by  the 
use  of  glasses  to  correct  the  deficiency  of  short 
sight,  a  contracted  forehead,  and  a  head  thickly 
covered  with  hair,  while  all  its  proportions  were 
imperfectly  defined.  I  had  been  previously 
informed  that  he  was  a  youth  of  uncommon 
parts,  and  had  graduated  in  college  a  few  years 
before  with  the  highest  honors  of  the  institution. 
His  first  appearance  but  little  accorded  with 
the   expectations  that  had  been  awakened  of 


182  M  E  M  0  I  R     0  F 

his  talents  and  interesting  qualities.  These 
unfavorable  prepossessions,  however,  were  im- 
mediately removed  when  I  was  introduced, 
entered  into  conversation  Avith  him,  and  caught 
the  silver  tones  of  his  voice.  He  received  us 
with  that  frank,  cordial,  and  ardent  manner  by 
which  he  was  so  peculiarly  distinguished,  and 
in  a  few  moments  I  was  convinced  that  he  pos- 
sessed remarkable  clearness  of  understanding, 
and  readiness  and  powers  of  conversation.  He 
at  once  entered  with  the  deepest  interest  into 
the  business  upon  which  we  had  been  induced 
ito  seek  an  interview,  gave  us  satisfactory  in- 
formation on  the  subject,  explained  the  best 
mode  of  proceeding  in  the  case,  tendered  the 
offers  of  any  services  in  future  ;  and  I  left  him 
so  much  gratified  and  delighted,  that  a  founda- 
tion was  then  laid  for  the  subsequent  intimacy 
between  us,  which  has  formed  one  of  the  high- 
est sources  of  my  satisfaction  in  life  ;  and  the 
loss  of  which,  at  this  moment,  presents  to  my 
imagination  and  feelings  one  of  the  widest 
vacuities  in  the  series  of  earthly  enjoyments.' 

The  kindness  and  promptness  of  service, 
which  thus  won  the  heart  of  the  young  student, 
continued  throughout  life  a  characteristic  trait 
of  Mr.  Hobart's  character,  and  made  him, 
wherever  circumstances  placed  him,  though 
but  for  a  day,  friend  arid  patron  both  in  heart 


BISHO  P     HOB  ART.  183 

and  hand  to  all  who  stood  in  need  of  his  aid  or 
sympathy.  Lest,  however,  a  false  impression 
should  be  given  to  strangers  of  his  personal 
appearance  by  the  above  description,  it  must 
be  added,  that  he  was  then  laboring  under  the 
effects  of  severe  indisposition,  brought  upon 
him  by  overstrained  application.  As  a  picture 
of  him  in  subsequent  life,  it  is  far  from  doing  him 
justice.  Though  rather  under  size,  his  figure 
was  well  proportioned,  and  strongly  knit,  giv- 
ing the  impression  of  strength  and  hardihood, 
and  that  greater  at  a  second  glance  than  at  first 
it  seemed  to  promise.  His  movements  were  not 
only  quick  but  energetic,  and  the  expression 
of  his  countenance,  while  it  corresponded  with 
every  varying  emotion  of  his  mind,  never  lost 
its  ready  smile  of  cheerfulness  and  kindness. 
It  was  such  a  countenance  and  manner  as  a 
stranger  would  address  with  undoubting  con- 
fidence that  he  would  meet  with  no  unkind 
repulse. 

We  have  already  seen  several  instances  of 
the  freedom  with  which  his  pen  was  put  in 
requisition  for  Commencement  speeches.  The 
following  letter  from  a  quondam  friend,  who 
had  taken  or  was  about  taking  Orders  in  the 
Presbyterian  Church,  shows  that  his  aid  was 
not  always  confined  to  academic  walls  and 
subjects. 


■m 


% 


184  MEMOIROF 

'  New- Brunswick,  June  \st,  1797.  '"■ 
My  dear  Friend, 

I  cheerfully  embrace  the  opportunity  of  Mr.  C.'s 
return  from  New-York,  to  convey  a  few  lines  for  your 
perusal.  It  would  have  given  me  great  satisfaction  to 
have  seen  and  conversed  with  you  at  the  meeting  of  the 
Presbytery  in  April  last,  but  you  had  gone  to  Philadel- 
phia. I  hope  you  have  returned  to  Princeton,  refreshed 
by  relaxation  from  study  and  college  business,  and  with 
your  mind  fortified  by  cheerful  resignation  and  calm 
resolution  to  bear  any  trial  of  life.  1  have  received  no 
answer  as  yet  to  the  letter  I  wrote  to  Forsyth.  My 
time  will  be  during  this  summer  so  wholly  engrossed 
by  study,  that  I  am  afraid  I  shall  be  deemed  negligent 
by  some  of  my  friends ;  to  you,  my  dear  John,  I  shall 
dedicate  whatever  with  propriety  I  can,  and  would  wish 
as  much  as  possible  of  communication  with  your  en- 
larged understanding  and  feeling  heart. 

The  Presbytery  have  appointed  me  a  popular  dis- 
course on  Hosea,  13th  chapter,  9th  verse,  and  a  lecture 
on  2d  Samuel,  23d  chapter,  first  five  verses.  This  last 
is  a  little  peculiar,  as  mixing  critical  with  practical 
divinity.  I  am  here  much  in  want  of  critical  commen- 
tators. I  wish,  therefore,  you  would  at  your  leisure 
oblige  me  so  much,  as  to  select  from  Patrick,  Poole, 
and  others,  as  short  and  judicious  an  explication  of 
these  verses  as  you  can  with  convenience,  as  also  Dr. 
Smith's  and  your  own  sentiments  on  this  passage. 

Mr.  Scott  and  Mr.  Sloane,  after  delivering  their  dis- 
courses, were  yesterday  licensed.  Mr.  Scott  will  be  at 
Princeton  this  week  ;  his  health  seems  very  precarious. 
Good  young  man,  I  trust  he  may  be  spared  for  useful- 
ness in  life. 

I  wish  much  to  hear  from  Caldwell  and  Forsyth  ;  if 


B  I  S  H  0  P     n  O  B  AR  T.  185 

you  have  received  late  letters,  inform  me  in  your  next. 
Make  my  excuses  to  my  friend  Thomas  How  for  not  yet 
writing  to  him.  He  likes  long  epistles,  and  I  am  over- 
crowded with  business.  However,  assure  him  of  one 
soon.  Make  my  respects  to  Mercer,  a  young  man  I 
highly  esteem,  and  hope  to  see  a  good  and  highly  valu- 
able member  of  society. 

My  dear  John,  write  me  soon,  and  be  assured  of  the 
kindest  regards  of  your  aflfectionate  friend, 

Eben.  Grant.' 

The  college  of  Nassau,  never  deficient  in  its 
due  share  of  the  talented  youth  of  our  country, 
seems  at  this  time  to  have  had  more  than  its 
usual  proportion.  In  addition  to  those  already 
mentioned,  may  be  added  the  names  of  two 
who  advanced  to  be  governors  of  their  native 
State,  Peter  Early,  and  George  M.  Troup,  of 
Georgia  ;  two  of  high  rank  in  the  Federal 
Government,  Richard  Rush,  late  Minister  to 
the  Court  of  St.  James,  and  John  M.  Berrien, 
late  Attorney-General  ;  two  heads  of  uni- 
versities, Joseph  Caldwell,  President  of  the 
University  of  North- Carolina,  and  Frederick 
Beasley,  Provost  of  that  of  Pennsylvania ;  the 
Hon.  William  Gaston,  of  North-Carolina  ;  the 
Hon.  Charles  Fenton  Mercer,  of  Virginia;  John 
Sergeant  and  William  Meredith,  of  Pennsyl- 
vania ;  the  Rev.  Dr.  Kollock,  of  Savannah, 
and  Judge   Burnet,    of  Ohio ;    besides   many 


ISG  MEMOIR     OF 

Others  whose  professional  rank  and  private  vir- 
tues would  justly  entitle  them  to  enumeration. 
With  many  of  these  his  surviving*  contempo- 
raries, the  recollection  of  their  college  friend  is 
vivid  and  strong ;  with  all,  amiable  and  pleasing. 
The  following  are  selected  :  *  I  was  not,'  says 
Sergeant,  '  his  contemporary  at  Princeton  ; 
he  preceded  me  by  several  years.  When  I 
first  arrived  at  college,  he  was  living  in  the 
town  as  a  graduate,  engaged  in  the  pursuit  of 
his  theological  studies.  I  rarely  saw  him  ; 
but  the  place  was  full  of  his  fame.  Every  one 
who  had  opportunities  of  knowing  him,  dwelt 
upon  his  talents  and  power  of  application. 
He  had  gained,  while  in  college,  the  first 
honors  of  his  class,  and  gave  every  presage  of 
the  intellectual  eminence  that  awaited  him  in 
after-life.  He  continued  to  keep  up  an  occa- 
sional connection  with  one  of  the  literary 
societies  to  which  he  had  belonged,  where  his 
abilities  were  always  usefully  and  signally  dis- 
played.' 

'  Mr.  Hobart,'  says  Mr.  Rush,  '  graduated 
before  my  entrance  into  college,  which  was  in 
the  spring  of  1794.  In  the  fall  preceding,  he 
returned  to  pursue  the  study  of  divinity.  It 
was  then  I  saw  him  for  the  first  time,  and 
regarded  him  with  great  interest  on  account  of 
the  distinguished  reputation  he  had  established 


BISHOP     HOBART.  187 

in  college  ;  but  he  being  a  graduate,  which 
separated  him  from  association  with  the  stu- 
dents, and  I  being  very  young,  we  seldom  met. 
My  chief  recollection  of  him  is  as  a  member  of 
the  Whig  Society  ;  he  generally  attended  the 
meetings,  and  always  maintained  there  a  de- 
cided ascendancy.  From  that  period  till  his 
death  I  seldom  saw  him,  but  observed  his 
course  at  a  distance,  as  marked  by  the  same 
elevation  which  distinguished  him  in  early  life.' 
Mr.  Gaston  says,  '  I  had  not  the  honor  of 
being  an  associate  of  the  late  Bishop  Hobart 
during  his  collegiate  course  ;  he  graduated  in 

1793,  and  I  entered  as  a  member  of  the  junior 
class  at  the  beginning  of  the  winter  session  of 

1794.  He  was  still,  however,  residing  in 
college,  when  I  reached  Princeton,  which  was 
to  me  a  subject  of  deep  interest,  from  the 
animated  contest  in  which  he  had  been  engaged 
for  the  first  honor  of  his  class.  Between  the 
graduates  and  students  there  were  very  few 
ties.  Although  I  saw  him  every  day,  nothing 
occurred  to  bring  about  us  any  thing  like 
intimacy.  I  retain,  however,  a  vivid  and  dis- 
tinct recollection  of  his  face,  person,  gait, 
manners,  and  voice,  these  all  rendered  him 
interesting  ;  they  indicated  quickness  of  per- 
ception, activity,  kindness,  depth  and  ardor 
of  feeling.     With  respect  to  his  merit,  there 


188  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

was  but  one  opinion  :  all  esteemed  him  for  his 
genius,  learning,  and  virtue.' 

Mr.  Troup's  account  goes  further,  having 
enjoyed  the  advantage  of  being  under  his 
tutorship.  *  The  impressions,'  says  he,  '  made 
in  early  life  of  the  purity,  worth,  and  piety, 
which  distinguished  the  late  Bishop  Hobart, 
are  yet  lively,  and  can  never  be  effaced.  He 
was  our  tutor  at  Princeton,  and  was  as  much 
respected,  and  as  universally  beloved  as  ever 
tutor  was,  or  as  the  relation  between  preceptor 
and  student  permits.  His  after  course  truly 
corresponded  with  the  hopes  then  entertained 
of  him,  and  he  seems  to  have  fulfilled  to  the 
last,  and  to  the  last  tittle,  the  sanguine  predic- 
tions of  those  senior  friends  whose  sagacity 
foresaw  the  future,  and  detected  the  germs  of 
that  usefulness  and  loveliness  which  it  is 
your  *  province,  as  it  will  be  your  pleasure, 
to  record.' 

The  following  letter  to  his  mother  intro- 
duces the  notice  of  another  college  friend, 
upon  whom,  after  the  death  of  young  For- 
syth, his  warm  affections  seemed  mainly  to 
rest — an  attachment  which  continued  through 
life. 

*  Addressed  to  Rev.  W.  Berrian,  his  Biographer,  and  Editor 
of  liis  Works. 


BISHOP     HOBART.  189 

'  Princeton,  August  28th,  1797. 

The  aJBTectionate  letter  of  my  dear  mother  gave  me 
as  much  consolation  as  my  mind  was  then  fitted  to 
receive ;  and  the  soothing  and  sympathetic  counsel  of 
my  dear  sister,  with  the  bright  motives  her  letter  sug- 
gested to  resignation  and  hope,  shed  a  light  on  the 
darkness  of  my  mind  that  revived  and  comforted  me  : 
indeed  I  am  at  a  loss  to  express  my  grateful  feelings 
for  the  consolation  her  letter  gave  me.  The  affectionate 
prayers  of  my  dear  mother  for  my  comfort  and  happi- 
ness, will  not,  I  trust,  be  vain.  I  trust  that  Providence 
will  bless  to  me  that  state  of  sober  and  calm  reflection 
that  succeeds  the  first  agony  of  grief;  and  however  my 
feelings  may  be  excited  when  I  think  of  the  friend  I 
once  had,  but  now  have  no  more,  I  yet  trust  I  shall 
know  that  a  steady  and  constant  reliance  on  the  good- 
ness of  a  gracious  Providence  is  a  support  adequate  to 
the  greatest  trials  I  can  be  called  on  to  bear.  But 
alas !  how  difficult  to  realize  this  powerful  motive  to 
resignation  ! 

John  (Forsyth)  and  myself  have  both  received  short 
letters  from  his  mamma,  Avritten  near  a  week  after  she 
had  heard  of  the  death  of  Robert,  which  was  announced 
to  her  by  a  messenger  while  she  was  on  the  road  from 
Augusta  to  see  him.  She  had  raised  herself,  for  the 
first  time,  from  her  pillow  to  write  the  few  lines  she 
forwarded  to  us.  It  gave  me  pleasure  to  see  that,  in 
the  midst  of  inexpressible  grief,  the  natural  strength  of 
her  mind  was  fortified  by  the  pious  resignation  and 
hope  of  the  Christian ;  and  that  a  sense  of  duty  to  her 
remaining  son,  while  it  led  her  to  repress  her  own  grief 
to  alleviate  his,  made  her  also  consider  life  as  still 
desirable  for  his  sake.    I  wrote  to  her  by  the  succeeding 


190  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

post.  The  illness  of  Robert  was  but  of  few  days,  from 
Friday  to  Wednesday, — an  inflammatory  fever  which 
ended  in  mortification. 

It  seems  as  if,  whatever  losses  I  may  sustain,  I  am 
not  to  be  left  wholly  destitute  of  those  enjoyments  my 
feelings  lead  me  most  to  value.  I  have  experienced 
from  an  amiable  young  man,  (Mercer,)  who  lives  with 
me,  the  sage  counsel  of  manhood,  with  the  tenderness 
and  afiection  of  the  warmest  heart.  He  receives  the 
first  honors  in  his  class,  and  graduates  this  fall,  and 
presses  me  with  tender  solicitude  to  spend  the  six 
weeks'  vacation  with  him  in  Virginia.  The  disinter- 
ested kindness  with  which  he  urges  the  necessity  of 
some  great  change  of  scene  for  my  health  and  spirits, 
with  my  own  conviction  that  it  would  be  beneficial, 
incline  me  to  go.  I  mention  these  circumstances  that  I 
may  receive  direction  and  advice  upon  the  subject. 

I  am,  my  dear  mamma,  your  sincerely  affectionate 

John  H.  Hobart. 

N.  B.  Ten  dollars  inclosed.' 

The  following  letters  from  him  to  his  mother 
and  his  friend  Mercer,  indicate  that  the  pro- 
posed journey  was  taken,  and  proved  not  only- 
favorable  to  health  and  spirits,  but  left  upon 
his  ardent  mind  such  a  warm  impression  of 
kindness  as  came  well-nigh  to  change  his  own 
destinies  and  those  of  the  Church,  by  a  perma- 
nent residence  at  the  South. 


B  I  S  II  0  P     II  O  B  A  R  T.  191 

'  Fredericksburg,  October  26. 
My  dear  Mamma, 

I  got  to  this  place  from  Mr.  Garnett's  in  Essex 
county,  about  an  hour  ago ;  but,  on  application  at  the 
office,  find  the  stage  full,  and  no  possibility  of  my 
getting  on  before  Monday.  I  don't  know  when  I  have 
met  with  a  severer  disappointment.  Considering  the 
short  time  I  shall  be  with  you,  two  days  are  of  material 
consequence.  I  must,  however,  submit,  and  endeavor 
to  make  myself  as  contented  as  possible.  You  may 
expect  to  see  me  much  fatter  than  when  I  left  home ; 
but  still  do  not  raise  your  expectations  too  high.  I  don't 
know  when  I  have  spent  my  time  more  agreeably. 

The  family  in  which  I  have  been  form  a  scene  of 
domestic  happiness  that  my  imagination  has  often 
painted,  but  such  as  I  have  never  before  found  realized. 
Every  want  and  even  wish  supplied  by  an  ample 
sufficiency,  content  beams,  I  may  say,  in  every  counte- 
nance. And  then  their  manners,  unfettered  by  the 
artificial  forms  of  politeness,  and  yet  entirely  removed 
from  rustic  plainness,  mark  the  artless  expression  of 
internal  goodness  wishing  to  dispense  happiness  to  all 
around.  In  such  society  could  I  be  otherwise  than 
happy  ?     With  love  to  all,  yours,  &.c. 

John  H.  Hobart.' 

'  Philadelphia,  Noteviber  5th,  1797. 
I  was  disappointed,  my  dear  Mercer,  in  not  getting  a 
letter  from  you  by  yesterday's  mail.  The  amiable  and 
delightful  society  of  Essex  are  almost  constantly  in  my 
thoughts  :  I  fancy  myself  still  among  them,  and  I  che- 
rish the  pleasing  delusion.  The  time  spent  there  was 
a  period  of  unaffected  happiness,  such  as  I  never  before 
enjoyed:  it  was  perfectly  congenial  to  my  wishes;  it 


193  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

realized  those  scenes  of  domestic  bliss  and  social  life, 
amiable  and  refined, — of  simplicity  and  ardent  benevo- 
lence, which  my  imagination  has  often  exhibited  to  me, 
but  rather  as  visionary  forms  with  which  she  so  often 
dazzles  us,  than  as  realities  that  I  should  ever  enjoy  in 
this  world.  If  I  am  ever  happy  in  life,  it  can  only  be 
in  such  society  as  that;  and  I  am  daily  and  hourly 
more  confirmed  in  the  plan  I  had  thought  of,  to  settle 
in  Virginia.  The  obstacles  to  this  plan  from  this 
quarter,  though  I  never  supposed  they  would  be  serious, 
are  even  less  than  I  expected ;  and  what  sanctions  my 
wishes  is  the  consideration,  that  where  I  can  live  most 
happily  I  can  there  be  also  most  useful.  Yes,  my  dear 
Mercer,  the  affable  and  open  manners  of  those  of  the 
Virginians  I  have  seen,  their  desire  and  constant  atten- 
tion to  make  others  happy,  are  precisely  what  I  have 
always  wished  to  find  in  the  society  where  I  should  fix. 
And  if  the  ardent  desire  of  my  soul  should  be  gratified 
in  possessing  the  affections  of  one  who  possesses  all 
mine,  where  is  the  constituent  of  human  bliss  that  I 
should  need  ?  But  let  me  moderate  these  anticipations 
of  happiness ;  let  me  remember  that  disappointment 
and  affliction  must  still  attend  my  weary  pilgrimage. 

To  you,  my  much-loved  Mercer  I  owe  much,  very 
much.  Your  counsel  has  aided  me ;  your  sympathy 
has  soothed  me ;  your  unwearied  attentions  and  exer- 
tions have  contributed  to  restore  peace  to  a  disordered 
mind.  Let  me  still,  my  dearest  friend,  enjoy  your 
friendship,  and  I  shall  have  at  least  one  worldly  comfort 
among  its  many,  many  sorrows. 

Do  not  think  of  renouncing  your  plan  of  returning  to 
Princeton :  as  it  respects  advantages  for  study  and 
means  of  enjoyment,  it  is  in  every  way  most  eligible. 


B  I  S  n  0  P    H  0  B  A  R  T.  193 

Remember  me  affectionately  to  your  sister,  and  the 
rest  of  the  family  at  Essex ;  and  when  you  have  an 
opportunity,  let  your  friends  at  Salvington  know  that  I 
shall  not  soon  forget  their  kind  attention  to  me. 
With  much  affection  yours, 

J.  H.  HOBART.' 

'Princeton,  November  2l8t,  1797. 
My  dear  Mercer, 

I  have  been  waiting  impatiently  to  hear  from  you, 
both  while  I  was  in  Philadelphia,  and  since  I  came  to 
this  place.  I  directed  my  letter  to  you  at  Fredericks- 
burg, at  which  place  you  will  doubtless  be  before  you 
come  on.  You  see  I  am  calculating  on  this  event. 
Indeed,  I  believe  it  will  be  so  instrumental  to  your  im- 
provement and  happiness,  that  I  am  particularly  desi- 
rous of  it.  Your  old  room  shall  receive  you.  I  will 
welcome  you  with  open  arms,  and  you  will  enjoy  hap- 
piness from  the  society  of  those  who  esteem  and  love 
you.  Believe  me,  there  are  not  a  few  particularly  ear- 
nest in  their  inquiries  when  you  are  coming.  I  have 
received  two  kind  and,  let  me  add,  tenderly  affectionate 
letters  from  Mr.  Garnett  and  your  sister.  Oh !  my 
friend,  what  a  luxury  it  is  to  me  to  enjoy  the  esteem  of 
the  virtuous  and  the  feeling!  I  sometimes  think  I  am 
too  desirous  of  it ;  it  makes  my  happiness  depend  too 
much  upon  others  ;  it  renders  me  tremblingly,  and  often 
painfully  alive  even  to  the  appearance  of  displeasure  in 
them,  and  consequently  to  the  smallest  error  in  myself. 
But  the  society  of  your  friends  in  Essex  yielded  me  a 
pleasure  indeed  unmixed  with  pain.  I  never  think  of 
them  but  with  emotions  of  the  highest  affection ;  and 
am  only  pained  that  it  is  not  in  my  power  to  express 
my  feelings  otherwise  than  by  words.  Let  their  own 
9 


194  MEMOIR     OF 

goodness  of  heart  supply  what  words  must  ever  want. 
Let  me  again  express  the  interest  I  take  in  your 
return,  if  yourself  and  friends  should  deem  it  proper. 
In  no  place  can  you  enjoy  equal  advantages  for  study ; 
in  no  place,  I  think,  will  external  circumstances  be 
more  favorable  to  your  happiness.  True,  it  is  our  first 
duty  to  adapt  our  minds  to  our  situation,  and  thus  learn 
to  be  content  in  any  ;  and  I  trust  you  will  always 
endeavor  to  be  so :  but  then  we  are  not  required,  for  the 
mere  sake  of  self-denial,  to  relinquish  any  real  happi- 
ness. Let  then  the  enjoyments  of  a  college  life  again 
be  yours. 

With  the  sincerest  friendship,  truly  yours, 

J.  H.  HOBART.' 


The  following  letters  are  from  early  com- 
panions, the  most  of  whom  are  already  familiar 
to  the  reader  :  they  afford,  like  the  preceding, 
pleasing  proof  of  the  feelings  with  which  he 
was  regarded,  and  the  continuance  of  those 
feehngs  after  the  temporary  tie  of  intimacy 
was  broken. 

•  New-Brunswick,  March  •20th  1797. 
Dear  John, 

I  really  imagined  that  a  certain  person  would  be- 
fore this  have  stolen  a  few  moments  from  business  or 
sleep,  to  let  a  friend  know  whether  he  was  dead  or 
alive  ;  but  the  most  confident  expectations  of  man,  as  I 
now  learn,  may  be  disappointed.  It  has  been  my  deter- 
mination to  be  somewhat  punctilious  in  conducting  my 
correspondence  with  a  numerous  acquaintance,  espe- 
cially at  this  time,  when  business  crowds  upon  me. 


B  I  S  H  0  P     H  O  B  A  R  T.  195 

But,  somehow  or  other,  I  cannot  be  so  with  you,  even 
although  you  are  indebted  to  me,  and  when  I  saw  you 
last,  gave  me  a  promise  of  writing.  I  have  very  little 
time,  however,  now  to  write,  as  Scott  is  going  imme- 
diately ;  but  if  this  serves  the  end  intended,  I  shall 
make  some  expectation  of  a  few  lines  by  the  bearer. 
Dear  John,  excuse  my  haste  :  I  long  to  hear  hoAV  you 
are.     Remember  me  kindly  to  every  inquiring  friend. 

The  last  Tuesday  in  April  I  shall  be  at  Princeton ; 
but  as  that  will  be  in  vacation,  I  wish,  if  possible,  you 
could  pay  me  a  visit  before  that  time,  for  I  shall  not  be 
able.  Believe  me  sincerely  your  friend. 

Ebenezer  Grant.' 

This  Is  the  last  letter  that  appears  from  this 
atFectlonate,  single-hearted  friend.  His  subse- 
quent course,  however,  (the  writer  speaks  from 
his  own  knowledge,  was  one  of  unpretending 
ministerial  usefulness.  He  removed  to  Bed- 
ford, Westchester  county,  N.  Y.,  where  his 
virtues  secured  the  esteem  of  all,  of  whatever 
denomination,  and,  among  others,  of  one  indi- 
vidual whose  regard  was  In  Itself  a  warrant  of 
Christian  character,  the  late  Grovernor  Jay. 
There,  unburdened  by  the  cares  of  a  family, 
and  above  the  fear  of  want  by  the  inheritance 
of  a  paternal  property,  he  cared  only  for  the 
spiritual  Interests  of  those  with  whom  he  was 
connected,  taking  up  his  sojourn  among  his 
parishioners,  wherever  he  found  himself  most 
useful,  with  an  apostolic  simplicity  that  spoke 


196  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

equally  for  their  and  his  sincerity  ;  and  thus  in 
humility  he  labored  till  called  to  his  reward. 

'  Philadelphia,  August  2ith,  1797. 
My  dear  John, 

I  have  always  been  so  negligent  a  correspondent, 
that  I  suppose  you  will  be  at  least  as  much  surprised 
at  receiving  a  letter,  as  at  my  long  silence.  While  I 
freely  own  I  have  no  good  apology  to  make,  I  can 
assure  you  I  never  think  of  it  without  regret.  It  has 
not,  at  any  rate,  been  occasioned  by  indifference,  or 
want  of  regard  for  you.  The  many  testimonies  of  your 
affection  I  have  experienced,  and  the  happiness  I  have 
always  felt  in  your  society,  have  made  too  deep  an 
impression  on  my  heart  ever  to  be  effaced ;  so  that, 
although  a  mutual  exchange  of  sentiments  during  sepa- 
ration is  agreeable,  and  a  very  natural  consequence  of 
mutual  friendship,  I  yet  sensibly  feel  it  is  not  necessary 
to  its  continuance. 

I  most  sincerely  sympathize  with  you  in  the  loss  you 
have  sustained  in  the  death  of  your  much-valued  friend 
Forsyth.  It  must  be  a  severe  trial  to  you:  to  his 
mother  the  loss  will  be  irreparable.  She  appeared  pas- 
sionately attached  to  him,  and  he  was  doubtless  looked 
up  to  as  the  hope  of  the  family.  I  am  sensible  that 
indulgence  of  grief  on  your  part  is  unavoidable ;  there- 
fore I  cannot  blame  it ;  yet  I  trust  the  reflection  that  it 
is  the  act  of  that  Being  who  knows  best  what  is  good 
for  us,  will  moderate  that  sorrow  for  your  loss,  which, 
while  it  is  natural  to  feel,  if  indulged  to  excess,  would 
be  hurtful  to  yourself,  and  distressing  to  your  friends — 
to  those  particularly  whose  happiness  seems  centred  in 
yours. 


BISHOP     HOBART.  197 

With  respect  to  Horsley's  tracts,  I  intended  them  for 
you ;  they  are  entirely  at  your  disposal.     I  shall  write 
again,  and  hope  that  my  long  neglect  will  not  deprive 
me  of  the  pleasure  of  hearing  occasionally  from  you. 
I  am,  my  dear  John,  affectionately  yours, 

James  Robertson.' 

The  following  is  a  solitary  memorial  from 
one  whose  name  never  agam  appears.  It 
indicates,  at  least,  that  the  tutor  was  often 
merged  in  the  kind  friend,  even  toward  the 
dull  or  neghgent  student. 

'  Orangedale,  September  Ath,  1797. 
Respected  Tutor, 

I  take  the  liberty  to  address  you  on  a  subject  of 
the  greatest  importance  to  me.  It  is  to  request  you  to 
prepare  my  Commencement  oration.  I  am  sensible, 
Sir,  that  I  ask  a  great  favor ;  but  the  necessity  of  the 
occasion  urges  me  to  it.  Ever  since  examination  I 
have  been  thinking  to  write  it  myself:  my  health,  how- 
ever, being  impaired  by  a  sedentary  life,  I  found  it 
necessary  to  employ  my  time  in  riding,  and  visiting 
my  friends ;  and  thus  deferred  it,  from  time  to  time, 
until  this  late  hour.  And  now  I  am  so  indisposed  from 
a  bad  cold,  that  I  find  it  impossible  to  write  the  oration 
myself.  I  therefore  make  my  first  request  to  you.  Sir, 
in  whom  I  have  always  found  the  strictest  sincerity.  I 
wish  only  a  short  one.  A  few  leisure  moments  in  your 
hands  will  amply  suffice.  Choose  a  subject  most  agree- 
able to  yourself;  it  will  not  fail  to  please  me.  If 
finished  one  week  or  four  days  before  Commencement,  I 


198  MEMOIR     OF 

shall  think  myself  exceedingly  favored.  In  the  course 
of  ten  or  twelve  days  I  hope  to  be  in  Princeton.  If  you 
can,  consistently  with  duty,  oblige  me  at  this  time,  I 
know  it  will  be  done.  If  you  do  write  my  oration,  I 
shall  consider  myself  bound  to  you  by  the  strongest  ties 
of  gratitude  and  friendship. 

I  am.  Sir,  yours  sincerely, 

'  P.  Le  C 

Whether  this  lazy,  grateful  youth  succeeded 
in  his  request  to  be  permitted  to  shine  in  bor- 
rowed plumes,  there  are  no  evidences  to  show. 
The  easy  nonchalance  of  the  letter  inclines  us 
to  hope  the  reverse,  and  that  his  name  ap- 
peared in  the  handbills,  on  that  occasion,  with 
the  usual  suspicious  note  : — -'  Mr.  P.  Le  C 
'  Oration  on  the  danger  of  Procrastination.' 

N.  B.  '  Prevented  by  indisposition  from 
delivering  it.' 

The  next  is  from  a  living  pen,  and  shows 
that  turn  for  metaphysical  speculation  by 
which,  in  after-life,  it  has  been  honorably  dis- 
tinguished. 

*  Edenton,  January  bth^  1798. 
Dear  Sir, 

I  always  feel  an  inward  satisfaction  in  unfolding 
my  sentiments  to  one  whom  I  look  upon  as  a  true 
friend ;  and  my  satisfaction  is  increased  when  I  remem- 
ber that  my  friend  is  a  Christian.  ***** 
Every  object  here,  whether  animate  or  inanimate, 
affords  me  pleasure.     I  sometimes  converse  a  consider- 


BI  S  no  P      HOB  ART.  199 

able  time  with  a  tree  that  in  my  infancy  invited  me  to 
play  under  its  cool  and  refreshing  shade ;  and  the  old 
dwellinjT,  in  which  I  have  spent  the  greater  part  of  my 
life,  though  at  present  unoccupied  and  falling  into  ruin, 
raises  within  me  such  a  musing  train  of  ideas,  that  I 
know  not  whether  it  be  pleasing  or  painful.  Now, 
whether  it  arise  from  an  intimate  association  of  ideas, 
or  from  some  qualities  in  the  insensible  objects  them- 
selves to  create  an  affection,  I  shall  not  pretend  to 
determine ;  but  certain  it  is,  that  the  love  we  bear  for 
objects  incapable  of  making  a  return,  seems  always 
more  disinterested,  and  frequently  affords  us  more  last- 
ing happiness,  than  even  that  which  we  feel  toward 
rational  creatures. 

I  have  the  pleasure  to  inform  you  that  there  is  now  a 
greater  prospect  of  my  being  restored  to  health  than 
there  ever  was  while  I  was  at  college.  Should  my 
hopes  of  recovery  now  prove  fallacious,  I  shall  be  happy 
in  being  spared  a  few  more  days,  that  I  may  devote 
them  to  the  worship  of  my  merciful  God,  and  the 
service  of  my  fellow-creatures. 

To  our  shame  we  must  acknowledge,  my  dear  Hobart, 
that,  in  this  part  of  our  country,  religion  is  in  a  de- 
clining state.  The  Holy  Jerusalem  doth,  indeed,  here 
droop  her  head,  and  the  City  of  the  living  God  is  desti- 
tute of  inhabitants.  There  is,  however,  a  proportion- 
ately great  field  opened  in  the  pulpit  for  the  display  of 
talent.  The  people  possess,  in  general,  generous  and 
noble  sentiments,  have  warm  feelings,  and  are  easily 
guided  by  the  powers  of  the  orator.  They  are  fond  of 
acquiring  knowledge,  but  without  the  perseverance 
necessary  to  arrive  at  perfection.  Hence  the  poison  of 
infidelity  has  contaminated  the  minds  of  both  rulers 
and  subjects  among  us.    The  works  of  Paine  have 


'JOO  MEMOIR     OF 

(lone  more  injury  to  North-Carolina,  than  ever  the 
writings  of  philosophers  have  done  it  good.  With 
love  to  all  friends  in  college,  and  praying  that  God 
may  bless  you, 

I  remain  your  friend  and  brother  in  Christ, 

Frederick  Beasley.' 

The  writer  of  the  following  appears  to  have 
derived  advantage  from  Mr.  Hobart's  kindness 
or  Christian  counsel,  perhaps  both,  though  his 
name  appears  in  no  other  record  that  remains. 

'  Canonsburgh,  Sd  January,  1798. 
Dear  Sir, 

Two  or  three  weeks  have  passed  since  I  was 
favored  with  your  kind  letter  of  22d  of  November.  It 
was  exceedingly  welcome,  for  we  were  waiting  with 
anxiety  for  one  from  you,  and  several  times  had  been 
at  the  post-office  on  that  account.  You  are  giving  us 
fresh  proofs  of  what  we  have  been  long  experiencing, 
that  you  spare  neither  pains  nor  expense  when  you 
have  it  in  your  power  to  oblige.  I  think  I  can  with 
sincerity  say,  that  it  would  be  one  of  my  greatest  gra- 
tifications to  repay  benefits ;  but  I  have  been  all  along 
so  situated  as  much  to  need  friends,  and  so  highly 
favored  as  to  meet  with  many  who  have  so  loaded  me 
with  favors,  that  it  is  certainly  vain  for  me  to  expect, 
by  any  returns  I  shall  ever  be  able  to  make,  to  get  clear 
of  my  burden. 

Could  I  but  believe  and  realize  the  great  truths  of 
Christianity,  as  I  think  I  have  sometimes  done,  it  would 
give  vigor  to  my  soul,  and  opposing  mountains  would 
sink  into  the  dust ;  but  it  is  a  truth  which  I  am  every 


B  I  S  H  O  P      II  O  B  A  R  T.  201 

day  learning  by  sad  experience,  that  never  will  I  move 
in  the  Christian  course  without  wisdom,  strength  and 
righteousness  imparted  daily  from  on  high.  I  am  often 
so  enveloped  in  darkness  as  to  be  unable  to  feel  the 
force  of  any  one  truth  in  natural  or  revealed  religion,  or 
even  my  OAvn  departure  from  this  world,  and  existence 
beyond  the  grave. 

Mr.  Hughes  joins  with   me   in   acknowledging  an 
irredeemable  debt  of  gratitude  due  you. 

Your  much  obliged  friend, 

JoH«  Watson.' 

» Philadelphia,  February  lUh^  1798. 
Dear  John, 

In  one  of  your  letters  you  mention  with  satisfaction 
the  time  we  passed  together  in  the  store.  If  my  com- 
pany at  that  time  afforded  you  any  pleasure,  or  in  any 
degree  alleviated  the  toils  and  fatigue  of  a  business 
which  I  was  always  persuaded  was  not  congenial  to 
your  inclinations,  I  can  say  with  sincerity  it  did  not 
surpass  the  pleasure  I  enjoyed  in  yours.  Though  the 
ties  of  parental  affection  must  be  stronger  than  what 
accidental  attachment  can  inspire,  yet  I  must  say,  that 
no  one  can  regret  more  than  I  do  that  you  have  been 
for  a  long  time  past  so  great  a  stranger  in  Philadelphia. 
You  know  my  indifferent  state  of  health  and  spirits ; 
and  though  it  may  seem  to  border  on  extravagance, 
it  is  not  the  less  true,  that  the  short  periods  you  have 
spent  occasionally  here  within  these  two  years,  have, 
besides  the  pleasure  of  your  company,  been  attended 
with  beneficial  effects.  My  happiness  at  the  time  made 
me  forget  my  complaints,  and  my  cheerfulness  continued 
Sifter  the  cause  was  removed. 
9* 


9Qi3  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

It  is  true,  that  the  pursuits  you  mention  would  be 
most  agreeable  to  my  inclinations  and  conducive  to  my 
happiness ;  and  the  prospect  of  being  able  at  some 
future  day  to  realize  them,  has  animated  me  to  perse- 
vere in  a  business  for  which  I  never  had  any  great 
inclination.  Though  not  so  enterprising  as  some,  I 
have  not,  I  think,  been  wanting  in  such  attention  as 
both  duty  and  interest  required.  It  is  with  regret, 
however,  I  must  add,  that  our  success  has  not  been 
equal  to  our  exertions,  and  that  the  object  of  my  wishes 
is  still  at  a  great  distance.  Should  we  be,  however, 
tolerably  successful  for  a  few  years,  a  plan  of  life 
similar  to  what  you  mention  would  be  my  choice  ;  and 
I  can  assure  you,  my  dear  John,  that  no  part  of  it  would 
afford  me  more  real  pleasure  than  having  frequent 
opportunities  of  enjoying  your  company.  But,  what- 
ever be  my  lot,  I  am  sensible  of  the  folly  of  giving  way 
to  unavailing  despondency,  and  shall  endeavor  to  avoid 
it.  There  is  no  truth  more  firmly  impressed  on  my 
mind,  than  that  we  are  all  under  the  care  of  a  wise 
Providence,  and  that  when  we  have  done  our  duty, 
whatever  may  be  the  result,  we  may  reasonably  con- 
clude that  it  is  what  in  infinite  wisdom  is  thought  best 
for  us. 

I  am,  my  dear  John,  yours  very  affectionately, 

James  Robertson.' 

Such  principles  as  those  this  letter  expresses, 
in  a  young  man  were  calculated  to  secure  suc- 
cess, and  the  reader  will  be  pleased  to  learn 
that  he  attained  it ;  *  and  though  he  turned 

*  James  Robertson,  Esq.,  now  (1835)  President  of  the  Rich- 
mond Bank. 


BISHOP     HOB  ART.  203 

not,  as  his  words  would  imply  an  intention  of 
doing,  to  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel,  it  was, 
we  may  trust,  from  finding  that  a  pious  layman 
is  not  excluded  from  heing  also  a  '  preacher  of 
righteousness.' 

The  following  is  from  a  living  friend,  whose 
pen  has  been  already  drawn  upon,  and  one 
who  has  fully  'redeemed  the  virtuous  resolu- 
tions with  which  it  concludes.  The  error  he 
laments  is,  besides,  one  so  common  in  our 
country,  that  its  strong  statement  may  be  of 
value  in  leading  to  its  correction. 

'  Cincinnati,  February  20th,  1798. 
My  dear  Friend, 

Your  kind  letter  of  the  21st  December,  though 
directed  to  me  at  Newark,  hath  by  the  attention  of  my 
good  brother,  found  me  at  this  place.  The  happiness  I 
experienced  on  receiving  it  you  can  imagine  better  than 
I  can  describe,  for  you  know  my  heart,  and  I  can  cheer- 
fully forgive  and  forget  your  past  omissions,  as  you 
have  now  given  me  such  a  pledge  of  future  constancy. 

A  perusal  of  your  epistle  enkindled  in  my  bosom 
those  emotions  of  joy  and  delight,  which  a  remem- 
brance of  former  companions,  and  past  scenes  of  inno- 
cent amusement  and  instruction  are  ever  wont  to  inspire. 
Tbe  bare  mention  of  '  Nassau  Hall '  gives  me  pleasing 
and  grateful  sensations.  I  shall  ever  feel  a  thankful 
attachment  to  that  seminary,  which  I  view  as  the 
parent  of  the  chief  happiness  I  expect  to  enjoy.  Fre- 
quently have  I  lamented  that  my  years  were  so  few 
and  my  judgment  so  tender,  while  there,  that  I  was 


904  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

incapable  of  either  knowing  or  reaping  those  advan- 
tages which  I  now  find  the  institution  is  calculated  to 
give.  My  case  was  perhaps  that  of  many  others.  I 
had  then  an  affectionate,  fond  parent,  whose  only  delight 
was  to  give  happiness  to  his  children,  and  render  them  at 
the  same  time  useful  to  mankind.  Through  a  blind  but 
benevolent  zeal,  he  wished  to  see  his  son  a  man  while  he 
was  yet  a  boy,  and  his  sanguine  expectations  anticipated 
nature  by  at  least  two  years;  so  that  I  finished  my 
classical  education  just  as  it  was  time  to  commence  it. 
However,  even  my  early  education  has  not  been  without 
some  good  effects  ;  it  has  given  me,  if  no  more,  at  least 
a  relish  for  knowledge,  which  I  trust  will  never  be 
satiated  while  I  am  on  this  side  the  grave. 

Be  assured  of  my  esteem  and  friendship. 

George  W.  Burnet.' 

^Edenion,  North- Carolina,  March  10th,  1798. 
My  dear  Friend, 

That  I  should  meet  with  a  return  of  affection  from 
one  of  your  warmth  and  generosity  of  feeling,  I  had 
no  reason  to  doubt.  There  is  so  close  a  connection 
betAveen  great  talents  and  tender  sensibility,  that  from 
your  possessing  the  former,  I  was  confident  you  must 
possess  the  latter  also.  His  happiness  is  confined 
within  a  narrow  compass  who  can  bring  himself  to 
believe,  that  friendship  is  merely  a  name  invented  by 
men  to  further  the  accomplishment  of  interested  de- 
signs. Such  a  man  cuts  himself  off  from  one  of  the 
greatest  sources  of  enjoyment  with  which  our  Creator 
hath  blessed  us.  The  exercise  of  our  social  affections 
is  always  delightful ;  but  how  exquisitely  so  is  a  pure 
and  disinterested  affection  —  an  affection  founded  on 


BISHOP     HOB  ART.  906 

respect,  built  up  and  completed  by  an  accordance  of 
sentiments,  of  dispositions  and  pursuits  !  What  music 
so  soothing  as  the  voice  of  a  sympatldsing  friend,  amidst 
the  pains  and  misfortunes  of  a  miserable  world  ?  Who 
like  a  friend  can  cheer  us  in  the  dark  hour  of  adversity, 
or  brighten  the  sunshine  of  prosperity?  And  here  let 
me  add,  that  religion,  by  spreading  a  serenity  over  all 
our  powers,  renders  us  more  tremulously  sensible  to 
these  amiable  emotions  ;  while  by  regulating  our  facul- 
ties, and  preserving  them  in  a  due  proportion  and  sub' 
ordination,  it  keeps  the  mind  in  a  fit  tone  for  vigorous 
and  useful  exercise. 

I  am  greatly  indebted  to  Dr.  Smith,  and  the  faculty, 
for  honoring  me  with  an  office  of  which  I  feel  myself 
unworthy.  Be  assured,  that  is  no  small  inducement 
with  me  to  return,  that  I  shall  enjoy  the  company  and 
conversation  of  such  warm  and  animated  friends  as 
Hobart  and  Mercer.  As  it  is  my  wish,  too,  to  review 
the  Greek  and  Latin  Classics,  I  shall  accept  of  the  offer 
made  me.  The  faculty  are  perfectly  acquainted  with 
the  circumstances  under  which  I  am  placed.  I  shall 
therefore  expect  some  indulgence  beyond  a  teacher  that 
is  in  perfect  health. 

Remember  me  to  Mercer,  and  with  every  wish  for 
your  happiness, 

I  am  yours  affectionately, 

Frederick  Beasley.' 

To  the  somewhat  romantic  picture  of  friend- 
ship contained  in  this  last  letter,  it  gives  both 
truth  and  tenderness  to  learn,  that  amid  the 
sorrows  of  after-life,  such  a  friend  he  found  in 
the  individual  here  addressed.    More  than  once 


206  M  E  M  O  I  R     0  F 

did  Bishop  Hobart  fly,  on  the  wings  of  friend- 
ship, to  comfort  and  console  one,  who  with  a 
pecuUar  sensitiveness  of  nature  has  been  called 
to  experience  his  full  share  certainly,  both  of  the 
sorrows  of  life  and  the  ingratitude  of  the  world. 
The  last  letter,  except  to  his  family,  that 
appears  of  a  date  previous  to  the  period  at 
which  this  narrative  must  close,  is  the  follow- 
ing, from  Mr.  Hobart  to  his  friend  Mercer,  in 
answer,  as  it  would  seem,  to  one  of  more  than 
ordinary  affection,  From  another  pen  the 
following  might  be  classed  as  among  the 
extravagances  of  boyish  romantic  feeling ;  but 
knowing,  as  his  biographer  has  had  good  reason 
to  know,  the  overflowing  and  generous  ardor 
of  the  heart  that  dictated  it,  he  does  not  fear 
to  insert  it  as  the  picture  of  a  noble  spirit  that 
overleaped  all  bounds  in  the  warmth  of  its 
virtuous  aff"ections. 

'  Pottsgrove,  May  I5tn,  1798. 
I  cannot  express  to  you,  my  dear  Mercer,  the  pleasure 
I  received  from  your  letter.  It  spoke  a  language  that 
touched  my  heart,  and  excited  all  its  tenderest  affec- 
tions. Friendship  when  sincere,  it  is  said,  burns  with 
a  steady  flame :  its  joys  are  even  and  tranquil,  but 
there  certainly  are  moments  when  kindred  spirits  swell 
their  joys  into  rapture.  In  a  moment  of  this  kind,  my 
dear  Mercer,  you  poured  forth  your  tender  expressions. 
My  soul  united  with  yours,  and  though  at  the  distance 
of  many  miles,  I  pressed  you  to  my  bosom. 


BISHOP     HOB  ART.  207 

My  much  loved  friend,  I  feel  an  affection  at  my  heart 
too  big  for  utterance.  The  tender  and  amiable  dis- 
position of  heart  that  first  attracted  me  to  you,  has 
appeared  more  worthy  of  my  love  the  more  I  know  of 
it ;  and  when  I  found  it  united  with  the  powers  of 
genius,  and  firm  and  noble  principles,  admiration  and 
respect  were  joined  to  affection.  If  therefore  my  heart 
has  fixed  on  you  with  fond  attachment, — if  I  have  de- 
lighted in  your  society,  and  sought  every  means  in  my 
power  to  make  you  happy,  the  impulse  was  natural, 
the  exertion  involuntary.  But,  my  dear  Mercer,  I  gave 
no  counsel  that  was  not  repaid  with  rich  increase,  — 
I  gave  no  consolation  that  was  not  poured  back  a 
hundred-fold  into  my  own  bosom.  I  owe  to  your  good- 
ness, to  your  prudent  counsel,  to  your  sympathy,  your 
tender  and  assiduous  attentions,  all  that  I  can  ever  owe 
to  the  most  ardent  and  faithful  of  friends,  and  I  trust 
that  neither  the  chances  nor  duties  of  life  will  prevent 
many  happy  meetings  between  us.  But  I  have  become 
familiar  with  separation.  My  dearest  friends  have 
been  torn  from  me  for  life,  and  these  mournful  events, 
under  the  counsels  of  religion,  have  moderated  the 
violence  of  my  feelings.  I  now  more  fully  realize,  I 
trust,  the  duty  of  resignation  to  God  in  all  the  events, 
and  under  all  the  circumstances  of  life,  teaching  me  to 
submit  with  holy  confidence  to  all  his  dispensations, 
and  directing  my  affections  to  that  glorious  state  where 
my  soul  shall  be  satisfied  with  the  fruition  of  God,  and 
where  I  shall  be  reunited  to  those  I  have  here  loved. 
But  perhaps  this  composure  is  only  vain  confidence, 
and  any  severe  or  unexpected  trial  would  awaken,  as 
hitherto,  sorrow  and  repining. 

I  already  begin  to  regret  that  scene  of  retirement  and 


208  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

Study  I  enjoyed  at  Princeton,  where,  in  the  society  of  a 
few  select  friends,  the  vain  desires  of  the  world  were 
shut  out,  and  improving  intercourse  enlivened  our 
spirits.  But  I  check  these  emotions  as  inconsistent 
with  my  duty,  and  destructive  of  my  peace,  and  resolve 
to  endeavor,  at  least,  to  be  contented  with  any  situation 
in  which  I  may  be  placed,  while  the  review  of  past 
scenes  of  happiness  will  ever  be  the  subject  of  my  most 
soothing  and  pleasing  thoughts. 

College,  I  suppose,  is  again  settled.  May  you  expe- 
rience in  it  both  happiness  and  improvement.  Few 
are  more  indebted  to  nature  than  yourself,  and  the 
assiduous  cultivation  of  your  powers,  (to  which,  indeed, 
you  are  so  strongly  disposed,)  is  the  only  way  to  repay 
the  debt.  I  am  daily  more  sensible  to  the  advantages 
of  your  situation,  and  regret  that  my  health  and  spirits 
would  not  permit  me  to  enjoy  them  longer.  Something 
more,  I  now  find,  is  necessary  to  improvement  than 
retirement  and  leisure,  or  even  a  strong  sense  of  the 
value  of  knowledge.  There  must  be  occasional  con- 
trasts with  others  to  show  us  our  defects,  and  to  sharpen 
our  diligence  —  there  must  be  literary  conversation  to 
unbend  the  mind  without  dissipating  its  vigor  —  there 
must  be  scientific  meetings  to  compel  us  to  investigate 
useful  subjects,  and  extend  our  knowledge  of  them. 
All  these  you  have  at  Princeton  in  greater  perfection 
than  any  where  else  I  know  of;  and,  were  it  not  im- 
practicable, I  should  even  now  resolve  to  spend  there 
two  or  three  years  more,  unfettered  by  an  office,  the 
duties  and  cares  of  which,  while  there,  absorbed  my 
time  and  bowed  down  my  spirits.  I  am  therefore 
desirous,  my  dear  Mercer,  that  you  should  remain  there 
as  long  as  with  propriety  you  can.     Do  not  suffer  tern- 


E  I  S  H  O  P     II  O  B  A  R  T.  309 

porary  inconveniences,  or  even  permanent  ones,  to  make 
you  dissatisfied.  We  always  think  we  shall  do  better 
in  some  other  situation  than  the  one  we  are  in.  The 
disadvantages  of  a  present  situation  are  always  felt, 
while  those  of  another  are  either  unthought  of,  or  but 
imperfectly  realized.  I  have  often  found  this  the  case, 
at  least  I  know  with  myself. 

College  scenes  and  engagements,  our  pleasant  walks, 
our  cheerful  meetings,  often  come  over  me  with  great 
force,  and  occupy  my  thoughts,  so  that  I  find  it  neces- 
sary, in  order  to  preserve  contentment,  to  magnify  as 
much  as  possible  my  present  or  future  advantages.  I 
wish  much  to  pay  you  a  visit,  but  know  not  when  it 
will  be  practicable.  I  shall  expect  with  eager  desire  to 
see  you  at  Frankfort.  In  your  society  I  shall  experience 
a  joy  I  have  not  felt  since  I  left  Princeton. 

The  first  Sunday  in  June  is  fixed  on  for  my  ordina- 
tion. Whatever  concerns  me  I  know  will  excite  your 
affectionate  interest,  and  you  shall  therefore  hear  of  all; 
and  be  assured,  my  dear  Mercer,  that  I  am  no  less 
anxious  for  your  welfare  and  happiness.  I  am  as  well 
as  I  had  probably  any  reason  to  expect,  though  not  as 
well  as  I  could  wish ;  and  in  proportion  as  I  can  settle 
my  mind  to  perfect  reliance  on  the  divine  will,  I  am 
happy.  With  you,  my  dear  Mercer,  I  am  persuaded 
that  this  alone  is  the  source  of  real  happiness. 
Your  affectionate, 

J.  H.  HoBART.'' 

In  this  confidence  of  the  perpetuity  of  vir- 
tuous friendship,  young  Hobart  speaks  the 
genuine  feelings  of  the  better  nature  within  us 
—  it  is  a  noble  faith,  and  among  the  relics  of 


:210  MEMOIR     OF 

primeval  innocence  :  that  which  in  our  attach- 
ments is  '  of  the  earth,  earthy,'  perishes  with  all 
perishable  things  ;  but  the  pure  affections  of  the 
soul  are  a  part  of  its  essence,  and  cannot  but 
endure  so  long  as  it  endures.  Wisely  placed, 
therefore,  and  duly  cherished,  they  form  bonds 
which  death  cannot  sever,  and  become  sources 
of  enjoyment  fitted  to  take  their  place,  with 
reverence  be  it  spoken,  among  those  which 
flow  from  God's  right  hand. 

That  Scripture  does  not  expressly  teach 
this,  is  no  argument  against  it ;  it  is  sufficient 
that  it  does  not  oppose  it,  for  Scripture  itself 
was  not  given  to  teach  us  that  which  the  finger 
of  God  had  already  written  on  the  heart. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Graduate  Society — Themes — Favorite  Studies — Talents   as  a  Public 
SpeEiker — Devotion  to  the  Ministry — Ordination. 

Thus  gifted  and  conscientious,  it  is  an  inter- 
esting question  on  what  studies  Mr.  H.'s  mind 
was  principally  bent  during  his  second  colle- 
giate residence.  His  official  duties  in  college, 
though  occasionally,  it  seems,  both  laborious 
and  absorbing,  left  him,  in  general,  sufficient 


BISHOP     II  OB  ART.  211 

leisure  for  the  pursuit  not  only  of  professional 
but  general  learning,  and  also,  though  sparing- 
ly, for  his  favorite  relaxation,  the  academic 
contest  of  college  debate. 

The  society  of  which  he  now  became  a 
member  was  known  as  '  The  Graduate  Society 
of  Nassau  Hall,'  being  confined  to  residents 
within  its  walls  who  had  taken  their  first 
degree.  The  subjects  here  discussed  were 
naturally  of  a  higher  order  than  those  hereto- 
fore alluded  to,  and  handled  with  an  ability  pro- 
portioned to  the  riper  years  of  the  disputants. 
What  they  were  in  the  case  of  others  can  only 
be  conjectured ;  but  of  young  Hobart,  ffty- 
five  theses  that  remain  sufficiently  prove  the 
current  of  his  mind  and  thoughts,  and  open  up 
to  those  who  take  an  interest  in  the  specula- 
tion, the  native  bent  of  his  genius. 

Judging  from  these,  than  which  there  can 
be  no  better  test,  all  his  natural  tendencies 
seem  to  have  been  to  practical  results  :  know- 
ledge with  him  was  for  action,  and  action  was 
for  influence,  and  influence  was  for  public 
good.  What  the  Greeks  meant  by  the  term 
ttfoXiTixoc:,  (when  used  in  a  good  sense,)  will  to 
the  scholar  convey  the  most  adequate  notion 
of  this  temper  of  mind. 

Of  this  character  Aristotle  gives  the  picture. 
His    ends  were  all  without  him  —  connected 


212  MEMOIR     OF 

with  the  welfare  of  the  state,  the  tribe,  the 
pubHc,  or  the  community  to  which  he  belonged, 
in  comparison  of  whose  interests  he  felt  him- 
self but  as  a  unit,  and  others  but  as  instru- 
ments. In  prosecuting  these  ends  he  was  all 
energy  and  movement,  bold,  talented  and  per- 
severing. Prompt  in  debate,  courteous  in 
reply,  unbroken  by  defeat,  otfending  none, 
gratifying  many,  influencing  all  :  these  were 
the  traits  that  fitted  him  for  acquiring  influence 
in  counsel,  while  in  action  all  were  willing  to 
follow  one  who  never  deserted  his  friends,  or 
receded  from  his  purposes,  whose  sagacity 
foresaw  all  difficulties,  and  who  had  either 
prudence  to  avoid  them,  or  resolution  to  over- 
come them. 

Now  to  this  ancient  portrait  young  Hobart 
had  many  resembling  traits,  in  talent,  courage, 
and  perseverance.  With  such  a  mind,  know- 
ledge, it  is  evident,  is  but  a  means  :  all  know- 
ledge, therefore,  that  could  not  show  its  rela- 
tionship to  the  duties  of  life,  met  with  but  little 
respect  at  the  hands  of  this  youthful  leader, 
and  certainly  occupied  but  small  share  of  his 
voluntary  attention.  He  speaks,  indeed,  in 
his  letters,  of  the  value  he  set  on  the  mathe- 
matical studies  to  which  his  duties  as  tutor 
compelled  him  ;  but  it  was  evidently  the  lan- 
guage of  a   conscientious  spirit  forcing  itself 


B  I  S  H  O  P     H  0  B  ART.  213 

upon  an  uncongenial  task.  Such  studies  un- 
questionably took  but  little  hold  upon  his  mind, 
and  left  still  less  impression.  Like  a  vigorous 
sapling,  it  sprang  back,  when  let  go  from  this 
forced  bend,  to  the  form  and  direction  which 
nature  had  given  it,  and  that  was  to  the  moral 
and  prudential  questions  of  life  and  practice. 
Physical  science,  for  the  same  reason  with  the 
mathematics,  had  little  attractions  for  him  ;  it 
lay,  as  he  thought,  beyond  the  pale  of  man's 
chief  interest  and  daily  business. 

The  question,  'What  isl'  was  ever  there- 
fore with  him  a  much  lower  one  than  *  What 
ought  to  be  1 '  The  former,  as  he  argued, 
might  make  a  man  knowing ;  the  latter  made 
him  wise ;  prudent  and  skilful  in  governing  both 
himself  and  others  ;  and  looking  upon  that  as 
the  great  business  of  life,  he  chose  for  himself, 
and  in  after-life  recommended  to  others,  the 
studies  which  discipline  the  faculties,  in  prefer- 
ence to  those  which  only  heap  up  materials. 
In  short,  his  idea  of  the  educated  man  was 
much  like  the  Stoic  notion  of  the  happy  one  ; 
the  perfection  of  both  lay  rather  in  the  course 
than  the  acquisition  ;  just  as  to  run  the  race  of 
duty  with  a  firm,  prudent,  and  benevolent 
mind,  that  was  the  height  of  happiness  ;  so  to 
discipline  the  faculties  to  such  a  prompt, 
vigorous,  and  sagacious  exercise,  as  to  be  at 


214  MEMO  IR     O  F 

all  times  ready  to  grapple  with  the  practical 
questions  of  life,  this  was  the  perfection  of 
education. 

Under  this  strong  natural  bent,  it  was  not 
every  study  that  would  tell ;  even  his  classical 
reading  left  much  less  impression  on  his  mind 
than  might  have  been  expected  from  his  long 
attention  to  those  models  of  taste,  both  as 
student  and  teacher  :  his  thoughts  never  be- 
came cast  in  their  mould  ;  and  finding,  too, 
his  own  pleasure  in  active  duty,  he  underrated 
perhaps  their  value,  as  a  storehouse  of  inno- 
cent, quiet  enjoyment,  to  those  whom  nature 
has  unfitted  for  the  bustling  engagements  of  life. 
The  reputation  of  high  scholarship  was,  con- 
sequently, neither  claimed  nor  perhaps  courted 
by  him — a  circumstance  that  unquestionably 
reveals  itself  in  his  style  of  writing,  which,  like 
his  manner  in  speaking,  was  too  full  of  ardor 
and  movement  to  be  esteemed  perfectly  clas- 
sical or  graceful.  But,  if  this  were  a  defect,  it 
is  one  that  belongs  naturally  to  a  strong  and 
full  mind.  His  style,  therefore,  is  energetic 
in  spite  of  much  diffuseness,  and  clear  in  spite 
of  much  carelessness.  The  impression  it 
leaves  is  that  of  a  strong  current ;  though  it 
cannot  be  denied  that  its  power  would  have 
been  greater  had  it  partaken  more  of  that  con- 
centration and  precision,  both  of  thought  and 


B  I  S  H  0  P     H  O  B  A  R  T.  215 

language,  which  may  be  termed  the  stamp  of 
scholarship,  and  which  is  rarely  found  apart 
from  familiarity  with  the  classical  models  of 
antiquity,  and  a  sincere  admiration  of  them. 
If  it  be  argued  that  strength  and  justness  of 
thought  are  independent  of  such  nicety,  we  can 
only  reply  Avith  the  oft-repeated  analogy,  that 
though  it  be  the  vigor  of  the  bow  which  sends 
the  arrow  to  the  mark,  it  is  the  point  and  polish 
of  the  dart  which  fits  it  to  penetrate. 

But  if,  under  this  long  list  of  exclusions,  it 
be  asked  what  he  did  value  among  his  academic 
studies,  it  may  be  answered,  in  the  words  of 
the  statesman  of  old — those  which  might  teach 
a  man  how  to  make  a  little  state  a  great  one. 
To  train  his  own  mind  to  wise  choices,  and  to 
practise  it  in  the  vigorous  pursuit  of  what  he 
deemed  public  good,  was  with  him  more  than 
a  substitute  for  book  learning.  His  theses 
and  dissertations  all  give  evidence  of  this  : 
they  are  either  solutions  of  vexed  moral  ques- 
tions, or  an  examination  into  points  of  practical 
policy.  Among  the  latter  are  several  on  the 
prospects  of  our  national  Confederation,  which, 
v/ith  a  patriotism  less  questionable  than  its 
sagacity,  he  contends  to  be  superior,  by  its 
compound  and  nicely-balanced  structure,  to 
all  those  causes  which  brought  ruin  upon  the 
simpler   democracies    of  ancient   times.       In 


216  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

moral  questions  he  goes  indeed  to  the  root 
of  the  matter,  venturing  on  *  the  nature  and 
origin  of  evil,'  and  evinces  no  contemptible 
power  for  a  young  logician,  in  wielding  the 
great  argument  of  final  causes. 

Within  the  walls  where  the  great  Edwards 
had  taught  and  dogmatized,  it  would  not  have 
become  a  pupil  to  be  wanting  either  in  the 
hardihood  to  attempt,  or  in  the  ingenuity  to 
explain,  in  words  at  least,  the  mysteries  of  our 
moral  nature.  It  may  not  be  uninteresting  to 
see  how  our  young  metaphysician  grapples 
with  this  problem.  The  following  paper,  from 
the  bundle  of  theses,  may  be  taken  as  a  speci- 
men. It  appears  to  have  been  either  an  out- 
line of  a  written  discourse,  or  else  notes  to  aid 
him  in  the  discussion  of  the  subject.  It  is  as 
follows  : 

JVatural  Evil  not  inconsistent  with  tJie  Perfections 
of  God, 

1 .  Because  the  sum  of  good  in  the  universe  is  greater 
than  the  sum  of  evil. 

2.  Because  the  natural  evil  that  exists  is  overruled  to 
wise  and  good  purposes — the  punishment  of  the  morally 
guilty,  and  the  trial  and  perfection  of  virtue. 

3.  Because  the  apparent  inequalities  in  the  distribu- 
tion of  good  and  evil  in  this  life  will  be  adjusted  in  a 
future  state,  where  those  who  have  suffered  most  here 
will  be  rewarded  in  a  proportionably  greater  degree. 


B  I  S  H  O  P     H  0  B  A  R  T.  217 

4.  Because  the  virtue,  and,  consequently,  the  happi- 
ness of  man  will  be  greater  from  having  been  the  sub- 
ject of  trial  than  it  would  otherwise  hwve  been,  it  being 
a  clear  and  strong  dictate  of  reason,  that  the  trial  of 
created  virtue  is  necessary  to  its  perfection. 

06;.  An  omnipotent  God  would  have  produced  all 
this  happiness  without  any  of  this  evil. 

^ns.  Was  it  necessary  for  him  to  do  so  in  order  to 
preserve  his  perfections  ? 

1.  If  those  who  suffer  in  this  life  will  be  proportion- 
ably  rewarded  in  the  life  to  come;  if  natural  evil  is 
made  to  perfect,  and  thus  to  increase  the  happiness  of 
virtue,  what  reflection  is  there  remaining  on  the  attri- 
butes of  God  ?  Are  they  not  more  clearly  illustrated 
and  established  by  thus  bringing  good  out  of  evil. 

2.  There  is  an  absurdity  in  the  objection.  The  hap- 
piness we  are  speaking  of  is  the  reward  of  that  virtue 
only  which  has  been  tried ;  and,  therefore,  to  suppose 
that  it  could  be  annexed  to  any  other  virtue,  (if  there  be 
any  other  virtue  in  a  created  being,)  is  a  contradiction 
in  terms. 

S.  The  omnipotence  of  God  is  to  be  understood  in 
subordination  to  his  own  eternal  reason  ;  and,  as  far  as 
we  know,  he  is  not  pleased  to  consider  any  thing  as 
virtue  in  his  intelligent  creatures  which  is  not,  or  has 
not  been  the  subject  of  trial;  and  this  supposition, 
though  it  does  not  make  evil  necessary,  makes  it  pos- 
sible. 

Obj.  It  may  be  said  that  the  angels  are  not  capable 
of  sinning ;  and  that  the  blessed,  in  a  future  state,  will 
be  placed  beyond  the  possibility  of  sinning. 

Ans.  We  do  not  know  this.  Some  of  the  angels  did 
sin ;  while  the  happiness  and  indefectible  virtue  of  the 


218  M  E  M  0  I  R     0  F 

blessed  is  the  reward  of  that  virtue  which  has  been  the 
subject  of  trial,  and  not  the  original  constitution  of  their 
being. 

All  which  considered,  we  may  conclude  natural  evil 
is  not  inconsistent,  &c. 

But  further  —  Moral  evil  not  inconsistent  with  the 
perfections  of  God. 

1.  Because  man  is  under  no  necessary  impulse  to  sin, 
but  in  so  doing  acts  freely. 

2.  Because  the  moral  perfections  of  God  are  strongly 
illustrated  by  the  exercise  of  mercy  and  goodness  in  the 
redemption  of  the  virtuous,  and  of  his  justice  and  holi- 
ness in  the  punishment  of  the  vicious. 

Obj.  The  omniscience  of  God  foreseeing  these  actions 
of  man  as  a  free  agent,  with  infinite  certainty  makes 
them  fixed  and  unavoidable. 

Ans.  There  is  a  contradiction  in  the  terms  of  the 
objection.  The  actions  are  supposed  to  be  free,  and  yet 
are  they  asserted  to  be  fixed  and  unavoidable.  The 
error  lies  in  not  considering  that  the  actions  are  supposed 
to  exist  before  they  are  foreseen,  or  else  that  they  are 
not  actions ;  and  they  are  foreseen,  not  as  fixed  neces- 
sary actions,  but  as  free  actions. 

Illus.  A  man  commits  a  crime ;  another  standing  by 
sees  him  commit  it ;  but  his  seeing  him  has  no  effect 
on  the  action.     So  is  it  with  the  omniscience  of  God. 

3.  To  say  that  the  Deity  foresaw  that  man  would 
freely  sin,  and  therefore  (even  in  appearance)  to  impute 
sin  to  him  (i.  e.  the  Deity)  as  its  author,  because  he  did 
not  prevent  him  from  sinning,  is  a  contradiction  in  terms. 
If  man  freely  sinned,  God  could  not,  without  destroying 
his  free  agency,  prevent  his  sinning ;  and  if  man  freely 
sinned,  reason  cannot  impute  any  blame  to  God. 


B  I  S  H  O  P     H  OB  ART.  219 

The  question  should  be  first  asked,  Does  man  freely 
sin?  If  he  does,  guilt  lies  at  his  door  only.  But  it 
may  be  said,  God  foresaw  man  would  sin,  and  might 
have  prevented  it,  and  not  having  done  it,  his  goodness 
becomes  chargeable;  but  the  answer  is.  If  man  freely 
sin,  there  can  possibly  be  no  imputation  on  God.  Why 
God  created  man  imperfect,  is  a  question  human  reason 
cannot  answer  ;  but  if  he  has  created  him  for  the  enjoy- 
ment of  happiness,  and  put  this  happiness  within  his 
choice,  and  if  he  forfeits  it  by  his  own  free  act,  there 
can  be  no  imputation  on  the  goodness  of  God. 

The  questions,  Why  God  has  created  man  imperfect 
and  liable  to  err,  and.  Whether  the  existence  of  moral 
and  physical  evil  can  be  reconciled  with  the  perfections 
of  God,  are  different  questions. 

Ohj.  God  could  have  conferred  the  same  degree  of 
happiness  on  man  in  a  future  state,  without  exposing 
him  to  natural  evil  in  this. 

^ns.  This  is  contrary  to  reason,  which  dictates  that 
sufiering  virtue  will  receive  a  greater  reward  than  virtue 
which  has  never  been  tried — never  suffered. 

As  the  most  that  can  be  offered  on  the  subject  is 
hypothesis ;  to  the  supposition  that  Omnipotence  could 
have  made  man  happy  without  exposing  him  to  suffer- 
ing, I  will  oppose  the  supposition,  equally  plausible, 
that  Gon  will  confer  greater  happiness  on  man,  in  con- 
sideration of  his  suffering,  than  he  would  otherwise 
have  done. 

On  the  whole,  though  reason  cannot  resolve  why  God 
has  created  man,  or  made  the  world  in  its  present  state, 
in  preference  to  any  other ;  yet  in  the  state  of  man,  or 
the  world,  he  sees  nothing  inconsistent  with  the  per- 
fections of  God. 


220  MEMOIROF 

Hence  we  may  conclude   the   existence   of  neither 
natural  nor  moral  evil  can  be  shown,  &c. 


But  the  origin  of  evil  in  the  nature  of  man, 
is  a  question,  which  however  disciplining  to  the 
intellect,  is  harren  to  the  conscience,  and  was 
not  likely  long  to  enchain  a  mind  set  upon 
moral  and  operative  truth.  He  seems,  there- 
fore, soon  to  have  dropped  the  discussion.  In 
relation  to  this  inexplicable  mystery,  the  simple 
language  of  Taylor  finally  contented  him. 
'  Adam  turned  his  back  on  the  sun  and  dwelt  in 
the  dark  and  the  shadow.'  So  that  instead  of 
troubling  himself  with  the  barren  controversy 
of  its  origin,  he  seems  to  have  henceforth  fixed 
his  thoughts  on  the  practical  question  of  its 
remedy,  and  dismissing  the  evil  of  human  nature, 
in  the  gross,  to  have  contented  himself  with 
looking  into  and  laboring  against  his  own. 

Of  the  usefulness  of  such  discussions,  espe- 
cially by  the  young,  there  Will  in  general  be 
but  one  opinion,  and  that  against  it.  Nothing 
can  at  first  sight  appear  more  foreign,  either  to 
the  practical  duties  of  life,  or  the  humble  spirit 
of  the  Christian,  than  these  subtle  questions, 
which  Milton,  evidently  with  a  view  to  their 
condemnation,  puts  intd  the  mouth  of  fallen 
angels. 


BISHOP     HOBART.  221 

'  Others  apart  sat  on  a  "hill  retired 
In  thoughts  more  elevate  ;  and  reason'd  high 
Of  providence,  foreknowledge,  will  and  fate-^ 
Fix'd  fate,  free-will,  foreknowledge  absolute^ 
And  found  no  end,  in  wandering  mazes  lost. 
Vain  wisdom  all,  and  false  philosophy.' 

But  is  there  not,  we  would  ask,  some 
reason  to  doubt  the  justice  of  such  con- 
demnation ?  To  the  charge  of  metaphysical 
studies  being  destructive  of  Christian  humility, 
we  may  oppose  the  opinion  of  one  who 
had  sounded  the  depths  of  both.  *  The  pro- 
foundest  metaphysician,'  says  Robert  Hall, 
'will,  in  my  opinion,  (caeteris  paribus,)  be 
always  the  humblest  Christian.'  And  to  the 
latter  charge  we  would  reply,  that  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  the  most  governing  minds  in  every 
age  have  come  forth  from  this  peculiar  train- 
ing of  the  intellect.  Such  were  Plato  and 
Aristotle  in  philosophy ;  Milton  and  Dante  in 
poetry ;  Burke  in  the  senate  ;  and,  to  speak 
of  our  own  day,  Robert  Hall  in  the  pulpit. 

The  recent  biography  of  this  last-named 
worthy  has  brought  this  fact  strikingly  before 
us.  By  him,  and  his  chosen  friend  Mackin- 
tosh, whole  days  of  academic  leisure  were 
thus  wasted,  as  most  would  term  it,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Scottish  Dee,  in  vain  endeavors 
to  sound  these  unfathomable  depths.  Yet 
what  was   the  result  ?     They  emerged   from 


222  M  E  M  0  I  R     O  F 

this  wilderness  of  subtleties,  not,  as  the  arguers 
against  such  studies  would  conclude,  metaphy- 
sical dreamers,  or  speculative  infidels  ;  but 
stern,  eloquent,  and  logical  reasoners  ;  firm 
and  heart-felt  believers  ;  with  a  depth  of 
thought,  a  richness  of  illustration,  and  a  pre- 
cision of  language,  which  belong  to  those  only 
who  are  inured  to  the  habits  of  strict  mental 
analysis.  To  the  same  point,  we  may  add,  what 
Cicero  acknowledges  of  himself,  that  his  power 
came  —  '  non  ex  Rhetorum  officinis,  sed  ex 
spatiis  academiae  ; '  '  not  from  the  workshops  of 
art,  but  from  the  schools  of  philosophy.' 

But  of  moral  studies,  as  opposed  to  physical, 
the  triumphant  defence  was  long  since  given, 
by  one  who  was  himself  a  striking  example  of 
their  influence.  *  The  knowledge  of  external 
nature,'  says  Johnson,  '  is  not  the  great  or 
frequent  business  of  the  human  mind.  Whe- 
ther we  provide  for  action  or  conversation, — 
whether  we  wish  to  be  useful  or  pleasing,  the 
first  requisite  is  the  religious  and  moral  know- 
ledge of  right  and  wrong.  Prudence  and 
justice  are  virtues  and  excellences  of  all 
times,  and  all  places.  We  are  perpetually 
moralists,  but  we  are  geometricians  only  by 
chance.' 

In  our  bustling  republic,  the  study  of  meta- 
physics is  naturally  enough  regarded  with  but 


BISHOP     HOB  ART.  223 

little  favor  :  it  passes  for  a  barren  region  which 
bears  no  fruit,  and  deserves  no  cultivation  ; 
yet  the  laborer's  toil,  we  should  remember, 
may  be  rewarded  by  gold  from  the  depths 
below,  as  well  as  by  the  fruits  upon  the  sur- 
face ;  and  when  we  see  eminently  practical 
talent  educed  by  such  studies,  there  is,  un- 
questionably, some  reason  to  doubt  the  cor- 
rectness of  first  and  popular  impressions. 

How  this  result  takes  place  we  cannot  tell  ; 
and  yet  perhaps  it  is  not  without  its  analogy  in 
external  nature.  Metaphysics  is  the  science 
of  principles.  As  then  we  put  seed  into  the 
ground,  and  there  come  up  plants  ;  thus  we 
sow  in  the  mind  principles,  in  order  that  there 
may  come  up  wisdom  ;  for  that  alone  is  to  be 
esteemed  wisdom  which  has  grown  up  and 
been  nurtured  in  the  mind  itself;  transplanted 
knowledge  being  in  comparison  of  it,  but  like 
rootless  branches,  which  fade  away  so  soon  as 
memory  ceases  to  water  them  ;  or  at  any  rate, 
like  the  stunted  products  of  repeated  removal, 
taking  no  deep  root,  and  sending  forth  no 
vigorous  branches. 

Such  unquestionably  must  be  the  conclusion 
of  the  biographer  of  Bishop  Hobart,  since 
never  has  our  country  brought  forth  a  more 
practical  efficient  mind  within  the  sphere  in 
which  he  moved,  and  seldom  has  the  youthful 


224  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

mind  been  more  turned  to  metaphysical  specu- 
lation.    But  to  return  to  our  narrative. 

The  scene  of  these  discussions,  as  already 
mentioned,  was  the  Graduate  Society  of  Prince- 
ton, an  arena  filled  at  that  time  with  no  ordi- 
nary proportion  of  talented  young  men,  most 
of  whose  names  have  been  already  given. 

At  such  meetings,  when  the  members 
chanced  to  alight  on  knotty  questions,  or  to 
be  arranged  under  well-matched  leaders,  a 
protracted  discussion  ensued,  and  the  contest 
seems  often  to  have  been  maintained  through 
several  successive  adjournments  before  a  deci- 
sion could  be  arrived  at.  Such  exercises  could 
not  be  without  their  inspiring  influence  on  a 
mind  already  by  nature  prompt  and  saga- 
cious ;  and  Mr.  Hobart's  subsequent  talents  as 
a  debater,  in  which  he  was  excelled  by  few, 
may  fairly  be  traced  to  this  early  discipline  of 
his  powers. 

The  only  difficulty  under  which,  as  a 
speaker,  he  then  labored,  arose  from  his  keen 
sensibility,  which  in  this  intellectual  gladiator- 
ship,  like  a  sharp  handled  weapon,  sometimes 
pierced  both  ways,  wounding  both  him  who 
gave,  and  him  who  received  the  thrust.  As  a 
debater,  this  was  doubtless  a  great  fault,  since 
it  dropped  the  shield  from  his  own  breast,  and 
showed  where  he  was  vulnerable.     As  a  man, 


BISHOP     HOB  ART.  225 

however,  it  rather  added  love  to  admiration  of 
talent,  to  find  the  heart,  in  a  good  cause, 
sometimes  turning  traitor  to  the  head.  This 
ardor  of  feeling,  though  years  moderated,  no 
length  of  time  could  wholly  suhdue  ;  and 
through  life  it  continued  to  break  forth  in  all 
the  trying  scenes  of  joy  or  sorrow,  .with  a 
power  overwhelming  alike  to  his  own  feelings 
and  those  of  others.  On  such  occasions  he 
was,  in  truth,  the  '  child  again,'  and  tears 
were  his  native  language.  This,  while  it  gave 
deep  eloquence  to  his  own  effusions  of  feeling, 
rendered  him  also  peculiarly  sensitive  to  the 
same  power  in  others.  Of  this,  an  instance 
occurs  to  memory  in  after-life.  Being  present 
in  court  as  witness,  to  give  testimony  to  the 
character  of  a  young  clergyman,  the  late  Mr. 
Thomas  Addis  Emmet  rose  to  speak  ;  it  was 
the  first  time  the  Bishop  had  heard  him  ;  and 
the  very  exordium  of  the  orator  overpowered 
him.  It  was  the  picture  of  what  the  Christian 
clergyman  should  be  :  this,  clothed  in  all  that 
rich  imagery,  and  uttered  in  those  deep  and 
impassioned  tones,  which  marked  the  elo- 
quence of  Mr.  Emmet,  quite  unmanned  him. 
His  head  sunk  on  his  hands,  and  so  continued 
for  some  minutes  after  the  speaker  had  closed  ; 
he  then  came  up  to  the  present  writer  with 
streaming  eyes,  saying,  *  I  know  not  how  you 
10* 


226  MEMOIR     OF 

have  felt,  but,  for  myself,  I  have  not  been 
able  to  hold  up  my  head  since  he  began.' 
Such  sensibility  makes  eloquent ;  it  dictates 
instinctively  what  art  can  only  teach  rhetoric- 
ally. *  His  feelings,'  says  a  friend,  speaking 
of  his  recollections  of  his  appearance  in  this 
Society,  *  were  apt  to  kindle  quickly  on  every 
subject ;  but  this  only  gave  eloquence  to  his 
effusions.' 

In  the  situation  he  then  was,  this  sensitive- 
ness could  hardly  pass  without  trial,  in  a  semi- 
nary where  the  prevailing  religious  opinions 
were  opposed  to  those  which  he  conscien- 
tiously believed,  and  which,  as  a  candidate  for 
the  ministry,  he  felt  himself  called  upon  unhe- 
sitatingly to  maintain. 

*  There  was  a  class  of  us,'  says  Dr.  Cald- 
well, the  friend  above  quoted,  '  who  were 
studying  theology  at  that  time,  under  Dr.  Smith. 
Mr.  Hobart  was  one  of  our  number,  and  known 
to  be  decidedly  Episcopal  in  his  views.  He 
was  Arminian  in  his  sentiments,  the  rest  of  us 
were  Calvinistic.  He  was  always  strenuous 
in  every  thing  which  he  deemed  a  peculiarity 
of  opinion  distinguishing  him  from  others, 
whenever  circumstances  evolved  it  into  view ; 
but  we  were  in  the  habits  of  the  utmost  for- 
bearance and  good  feeling.  If  at  any  moment 
a  spark  appeared,  struck  out  in  discussion  in 


BISHOP     HOBART.  227 

consequence  of  peculiarity  of  church  or  doc- 
trine, it  seemed  instantly  understood  that  it 
was  to  be  permitted  to  drop  and  disappear.' 

The  language  of  Professor  Maclean,  on  this 
point,  is  more  pleasing,  and  probably,  at  the 
same  time,  more  exact.  '  He  was  alike  dis- 
tinguished,' says  he,  '  for  his  attachment  to 
the  Episcopal  cause,  and  for  his  liberality 
toward  Christians  of  all  other  denominations. 
He  now  gave  evidence  of  that  zeal  for  his 
Church,  and  ability  to  defend  her  interests, 
which  so  remarkably  characterized  the  whole 
of  his  ministerial  life.' 

But,  whatever  were  his  attachments,  the 
principle  on  which  he  proceeded  in  his  studies 
evinces  a  sound  and  liberal  cast  of  mind.  '  I 
mean  not  to  leave  any  author,'  says  he,  '  until 
I  have  made  myself  master  of  him  and  his  sub- 
ject. My  sphere  of  reading  may  be  contracted 
by  this  method,  but  it  will  certainly  not  be 
made  less  improving.' 

His  course  of  reading,  too,  was  the  opposite 
of  that  which  would  be  chosen  by  a  sectarian  : 
it  displays  alike  independence  and  liberaHty, 
or,  to  speak  more  justly,  a  mind  imbued  with 
the  true  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  and  seeking  only 
to  know  the  truth. 

*  Dr.  Smith,'  says  he,  in  one  of  his  letters, 
*  who  is  very  attentive  to  me,  seems  to  wish 


228  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

that  I  should  begin  to  study  his  system  of 
divinity  ;  but  I  am  entirely  opposed  to  study- 
ing any  system  whatever,  till  I  understand 
more  of  that  sacred  volume  from  which  all 
their  conclusions,  if  just,  must  be  drawn. 
When  the  fountain  is  open,  why  have  recourse 
to  the  streams  which  it  supplies  ]  Scrip- 
ture seems  too  generally  studied  in  order  to 
support  preconceived  opinions,  and  perhaps 
this  is  the  reason  why  so  many  doctrines  in- 
consistent with  it  are  maintained.  When  the 
study  of  the  Bible  is  gone  through,  systems 
may  then  be  advantageously  taken  up.' 

It  is  due  to  Bishop  White,  who  was  his 
spiritual  adviser,  to  state,  that  in  this  course 
he  was  supported  by  his  authority.  *  Dr.  White,' 
he  adds,  '  earnestly  recommended  it  to  me  to 
study  the  Bible,  to  form  my  opinions.'  Such 
too  is  the  language  of  the  Church  whose  minis- 
try he  sought  ;  it  teaches  no  system  of  divinity, 
and  imposes  nothing  but  the  Holy  Scriptures  ; 
'  so  that  whatsoever  is  not  read  therein,  nor 
may  be  proved  thereby,  is  not  to  be  required 
of  any  man  that  it  should  be  believed  as  an 
article  of  the  faith.'* 

Christianity,  so  studied,  cannot  eventuate  in 
a  sectarian  system.     Where  truth  is  the  only 

*  Article  VI.— Of  the  sufficiency  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  for 
salvation. 


BISHOP     HOBART.  229 

object  sought,  there  can  hardly  be  bigotry  in 
opinion,  least  of  all  in  matters  of  religion,  since 
he  who  thus  studies  the  word  of  God  can 
hardly  fail  of  imbibing  its  spirit  also,  and  gain- 
ing grace  as  well  as  knowledge. 

Thus  much,  at  least,  therefore,  must  be 
conceded  to  the  memory  of  Bishop  Hobart, 
even  by  those  who  most  differed  from  him. 
His  religious  convictions  were  drawn  from  the 
study  of  the  Bible  :  he  openly  and  studiously 
rejected  all  human  authority  in  forming  them  ; 
and  if  he  arrived  at  the  doctrines  which  the 
Church  teaches,  it  was  still  the  Scriptures,  and 
not  the  Church,  which  taught  them  to  him. 

But  not  only  in  their  source  were  his 
opinions  scriptural,  they  were  equally  so  in 
the  spirit  with  which  he  maintained  them. 
Even  when  most  bitterly  condemned,  he  never 
confounded  men  with  principles.  He  would 
go  to  the  death  for  the  maintenance  of  what 
he  believed  to  be  truth  ;  but  then  he  claimed 
for  himself  no  higher  sincerity  than  what  he 
allowed  his  adversaries,  nor  ever  transferred  to 
their  persons  the  hostility  he  often  felt  toward 
their  opinions.  He  had  no  respect,  it  is  true, 
for  what  the  world  calls  *  liberality '  in  rehgion. 
No  wonder,  then,  that  with  the  world  he  was 
sometimes  esteemed  a  bigot  ;  it  is  the  fate  of 
all  men  who  make  truth  their  only  aim  ;  it  was 


230  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

the  condemnation  of  the  early  Christians,  that 
they  would  not  symbolize  with  the  Heathen 
around  them  ;  and  it  has  never  ceased,  in  what 
is  now  termed  the  Christian  world,  to  be  the 
condemnation  of  such  as,  in  the  same  apos- 
tolic spirit,  hold  to  what  they  esteem  scrip- 
tural truth,  without  compromise,  and  without 
wavering. 

But  if  this  be  bigotry,  what,  we  may  ask, 
is  sound  Christianity?  If  to  examine  fairly, 
without  regard  to  human  authority,  and  to 
hold  firmly,  without  respect  to  the  world's 
opinion,  what  the  well-instructed  and  consci- 
entious mind  arrives  at  in  the  study  of  the 
Bible,  not  denying  to  others  an  equal  right  to 
independent  judgment,  and  an  equal  share  of 
conscientious  scrutiny,  —  if  this  be  bigotry, 
then,  indeed,  was  Bishop  Hobart  a  bigot  ;  but 
so  too  must  be  esteemed  the  Peters  and  Pauls, 
the  Luthers  and  Calvins,  of  every  age.  But, 
on  the  contrary,  if  such  be  the  necessary  course 
of  every  candid,  brave,  and  true  spirit,  then 
was  Bishop  Hobart  but  another  bright  sample 
of  what  all  Christians  should  be. 

Independence  of  character  marked  his  early 
as  it  did  his  latter  years  ;  he  stood  up  for 
what  he  thought  truth  and  right,  no  matter 
who  opposed  them,  or  what  obstacles  stood  in 
the  way.     Some  sparkles  of  this  spirit  seem  to 


B  I  S  H  O  P    H  O  B  A  R  T.  331 

have  been  elicited  even  with  his  revered  friend 
and  pastor,  Bishop  White,  in  reference  to  the 
terms  of  his  ordination. 

By  the  Canons  of  the  Church,  as  they  then 
stood,  no  candidate  could  he  ordained  without 
what  in  ecclesiastical  language  is  termed  '  a 
title.'  A  call  was  consequently  procured  for 
him  from  one  of  the  neighboring  country 
churches ;  but  when  he  understood  that  it 
implied  a  permanent  connection,  he  promptly 
declined  it,  on  the  conscientious  as  well  as 
prudential  ground  that  the  congregation  and 
he  were  mutually  ignorant  of  each  other. 

His  request  for  ordination,  with  the  freedom 
to  look  for  a  situation,  was  considered  irregu- 
lar ;  but,  in  answer,  the  idea  was  thrown  out 
that  he  might  be  admitted  to  orders  on  the 
plea  of  his  situation  as  tutor.  This  he  still 
more  promptly  rejected,  on  the  score  of  its  in- 
sincerity, '  not  choosing,'  as  he  observes,  '  from 
many  considerations,  to  remain  longer  in  it.' 

The  following  letters  close  the  correspond- 
ence between  him  and  the  Bishop,  which  was 
drawn  forth  by  these  unexpected  impediments. 

'  Princeton,  December  8th,  1797. 
Dear  Sit, 

I  had  intended  writing  to  you  even  before  the  re- 
ceipt of  your  letter.  On  referring  to  the  canon  you 
mention,  I  find  ray  first  wishes  cannot  be  gratified.    I 


232  M  E  M  O  I  R     0  F 

supposed  I  might  be  permitted  to  preach  where  I 
received  invitations,  holding  myself  responsible  to  the 
proper  authority  for  any  infringement  of  ecclesiastical 
discipline ;  at  the  same  time,  as  there  was  no  congre- 
gation within  my  knowledge  to  which  I  felt  a  particular 
predilection,  I  thought  I  might  be  indulged  in  looking 
around  me,  and  fixing,  with  the  approbation  of  my  supe- 
riors in  the  Church,  where  I  supposed  I  could  be  most 
useful  and  most  happy.  The  canon,  however,  is  con- 
trary to  this  idea ;  and  with  respectful  deference  to  the 
opinion  of  those  who  framed  it,  I  must  be  permitted  to 
say  that,  in  my  opinion  it  imposes  a  great  hardship  on 
candidates  for  the  ministry — a  hardship  which,  I  be- 
lieve, is  not  felt  in  any  other  Church — obliging  them  to 
settle  before  they  can  be  acquainted  fully  with  a  con- 
gregation, or  the  congregation  with  their  qualifications. 
The  plan  I  have  suggested  will,  I  think,  comply  in 
spirit  with  the  requisitions  of  the  canon  ;  but  I  really 
cannot  think  of  engaging  permanently  with  any  con- 
gregation before  I  know  their  character  and  situation, 
and  before  they  can  have  that  confidence  in  me  which 
a  discharge  of  my  duty  amongj  them,  for  some  time  at 
least,  can  alone  inspire. 

I  would  wish  you  to  believe  that  the  obedience  I 
shall  ever  choose  to  render  to  the  authority  of  the 
Church  will  be  the  dictate  of  duty  and  affection  ;  and 
that  my  own  opinion  shall  ever  be  relinquished  to  that 
of  my  ecclesiastical  superiors,  when  it  is  not  attended 
with  the  entire  sacrifice  of  my  own  judgment  or  hap- 
piness. The  kindness  and  care  you  have  always  shown 
me  will  make  me  peculiarly  anxious  to  secure  your 
approbation.  I  remain,  dear  Sir, 

Very  affectionately,  &c.,  yours, 

John  H.  Hobart.' 


BISHOP     HOBART.  233 

The  proposition  contained  in  this  letter  he 
subsequently  modified  to  a  twelvemonth's  en- 
gagement, and  deferring  orders  until  the  fall ; 
which,  after  some  discussion,  was  finally  ap- 
proved of. 

Now  in  this  matter  Mr.  Hobart  unques- 
tionably was  right,  and  the  canon  wrong. 
The  requirement  of  '  a  title '  for  ordination, 
had  been  borrowed  from  the  English  Church, 
in  which  it  is  no  doubt  a  wise  provision  against 
the  admission  of  superfluous  numbers  into  a 
profession  at  all  times  fully  stocked  ;  but  in  a 
country  like  ours,  where  the  demand  for  minis- 
ters so  far  outruns  the  supply,  the  precaution 
was  alike  needless  and  annoying.  It  was 
wisely,  therefore,  modified  in  his  case,  and  by 
subsequent  legislation  entirely  removed,  sub- 
stituting instead,  a  right  of  direction  on  the 
part  of  the  ordaining  Bishop  over  those  or- 
dained during  the  period  of  their  deaconship. 

The  following  is  in  answer  to  the  proposition 
as  modified  : 

*  Philadelphia,  February  8th,  1798. 
My  dear  Sir, 

Although  the  arrival  of  your  letter  at  a  period  the 
most  distressing  to  myself  and  family,*  must  have 
accounted  to  you  for  not  receiving  an  early  answer,  yet 

*  The  death  of  Mr.  White. 


234  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

I  certainly  have  let  the  matter  rest  much  longer  than  I 
intended.  As  it  is  now  stated  I  see  no  difliculty,  and 
the  matter  appears  in  the  same  light  to  my  brethren. 
I  have  only  to  add,  that  nothing  on  ray  part  shall  be 
wanting  to  your  satisfaction ;  and  with  my  prayers, 
that  by  Divine  grace  you  may  be  directed  for  the  best, 

I  remain  yours  very  affectionately, 

W.  White.' 

'  Princeton,  February  16,  1798. 
Dear  Sir, 

I  am  happy  to  find  by  your  letter  that  my  plan  is 
approved  of  by  yourself  and  the  clergy.  "With  your 
approbation,  then,  I  will  prepare  against  the  stated  tim€ 
of  ordination  on  Trinity  Sunday,  and  commence  my 
parochial  duties  as  soon  after  as  shall  be  deemed  proper. 
My  thanks  are  due  to  Dr.  Smith,  for  the  interest  he 
discovers  in  this  matter.  Your  uniform  and  kind  atten- 
tion to  my  welfare  fully  assures  me,  that  on  this  occa- 
sion every  thing  will  be  contributed  in  your  power  to 
my  satisfaction. 

With  sentiments  of  respect  and  duty, 

I  am,  dear  Sir,  yours  affectionately, 

J.  H.  HOBART.' 

An  incidental  letter  to  his  mother  about  this 
time,  while  it  shows  her  justifiable  anxiety  for 
his  temporal  interests,  exhibits  on  his  part  that 
disregard  of  money,  when  balanced  against 
duty  or  kindness,  which  equally  marked  him 
in  poverty  and  wealth.  *  My  dear  mother,' 
says  he,   '  does  not  seem  properly  to  under- 


B  I  S  H  O  P     H  O  B  A  R  T.  285 

stand  what  I  wrote  to  Dr.  White,  I  have '  no 
intention  of  remaining  permanently  with  any 
congregation  that  will  not  afford  me  a  decent 
competence.  I  only  meant  that  I  would  not 
insist  on  this  at  first,  as  a  condition,  before 
they  knew  my  abilities,  or  whether  I  would 
please  them.  I  considered  also,  that  most  of  the 
Episcopal  congregations  are  in  such  a  deranged 
state,  as  to  need  the  sedulous  exertions  of  a 
settled  minister  to  put  them  in  the  way  of  afford- 
ing a  maintenance.  I  would  always  wish  my 
income  from  a  congregation  to  rest  on  the 
opinion  they  had  of  my  abilities  and  exertions. 
Thus  explained,  I  think  you  can  have  no  ob- 
jection to  my  sentiments.' 

As  appears  by  the  following  letter  to  his 
sister,  his  early  and  favorite  plan  of  a  settle- 
ment in  Virginia  had  been  for  some  time  given 
up.  This  scheme  seems  to  have  been  sug- 
gested to  him  by  the  attachment  formed  during 
his  short  visit  to  the  family  of  his  friend  Mer- 
cer ;  but  that  which  romantic  feelings  dictated, 
the  more  abiding  affections  of  his  heart  soon 
led  him  to  abandon. 

'Princeton,  February  2d,  1798. 
If  my  dear   sister  had   opposed  even  my  strongest 
wishes,  the  affectionate  manner  in  which  her  reasons 
were  addressed  to  me,  would  have  operated  strongly  on 


236  M  E  M  0  I  R     0  F 

my  feelings  ;  but  when  my  plans  for  life  were  far  from 
being  settled,  reasons  thus  drawn  from  the  highest 
motives  of  usefulness  and  duty,  and  urged  by  one 
whose  tender  regard  for  my  happiness  I  have  so  often 
felt,  could  not  fail  of  determining  my  mind. 

In  the  hope  then  of  uniting  usefulness  with  that 
retirement  so  valuable  to  me,  both  as  it  subserves  study 
and  cherishes  virtuous  feeling,  and  with  the  strong 
desire  of  giving  happiness  to  my  friends,  and  deriving  it 
myself  from  all  these  sources,  I  have  concluded  to  direct 
my  views  solely  to  the  congregations  near  the  city,  and 
will  inform  Dr.  White,  that  if  they  be  willing  I  will 
engage  with  them  for  a  year.  If  this  determination 
affords  you  pleasure,  I  wish  you  to  believe,  that  one  of 
its  chief  enjoyments  to  me  will  be  the  opportunities  it 
will  afford  of  an  interchange  of  affection  with  those  to 
whom  nature  and  duty  so  strongly  attach  me. 

In  my  plans  worldly  objects  have  had  but  little  place. 
If  this  be  an  error,  it  is  one  which  my  feelings  make 
natural,  and  I  believe  invincible.  A  life  in  the  country 
can  be,  I  believe/  more  happy  than  one  in  the  city ;  and 
though  I  do  not  say  that  no  considerations  will  induce 
me  to  submit  to  the  latter,  yet  they  must  be  those  of 
high  commanding  duty.  In  an  unreserved  and  affec- 
tionate intercourse  with  my  near  connections,  mutually 
bestowing  and  receiving  all  kind  and  tender  offices,  and 
more  especially  reclining  with  confidence  on  some  sin- 
cere and  feeling  friend  ;  —  such  are  the  enjoyments 
which  I  desire.  Scenes  of  bliss,  like  the  last,  have  for 
a  moment  delighted  me,  and  passed  away ;  it  is  only  in 
a  higher  state  of  being  that  I  can  hope  for  the  perma- 
nent possession  of  them. 

There  is  no  duty  more  in  unison  with  my  feelings, 


BI  SHOP     H  OB  ART.  237 

nor  of  stronger  obligation,  than  that  which  regards  the 
tender  parent  to  whose  solicitous  and  unwearied  care  I 
owe  so  much.  All  the  comfort  I  can  afford  her  will  not 
compensate  her  kindness  and  goodness  to  me.  In  her 
faithful  discharge  of  duty  to  us  all,  there  is,  I  trust,  in 
reserve  for  her  much  higher  happiness  than  she  can 
receive  here. 

I  shall  not  bo  able  to  make  the  necessary  preparation 
for  taking  orders  until  the  fall ;  but  as  I  mean  to  leave 
college  in  the  spring,  I  shall  have  an  opportunity  of 
pursuing,  in  part  at  least,  your  plan  for  me  of  relaxation 
and  exercise.  I  often  anticipate  with  lively  feelings, 
the  society  of  my  friends,  of  which  of  late  years,  I  have 
had  so  little.  *####*  Your  last  son  has  a  peculiar 
claim  from  being  named  after  me,  but  I  will  not  promise 
to  love  him  better  than  the  rest.  May  my  dear  sister 
derive  all  that  happiness  from  her  children,  of  which 
her  affection  and  care  make  her  truly  deserving ! 

Thus  prays  your  aflfectionate  brother, 

J.  H.  HOBART.' 

The  letter  of  Mrs.  Smith  to  which  this  is  an 
answer,  unfortunately  is  not  preserved,  but  the 
good  sense  and  piety  displayed  in  all  her  let- 
ters demand  some  short  notice  of  the  writer. 
Rebecca  (Hobart)  Smith  was  at  this  time  his 
only  surviving  sister,  being  his  senior  by  at 
least  thirteen  years.  The  misfortunes  of  her 
youth,  having  lost  both  husband  and  child 
before  the  twenty-fifth  year  of  her  age,  had 
early  matured   her   Christian  character,    and 


238  MEMOIR     OF 

made  her  a  wise  as  well  as  tender  counsellor, 
to  her  more  ardent,  if  not  more  sensitive 
brother. 

In  her  second  marriage,  with  Mr.  Smith, 
worldly  prosperity  opened  upon  her,  but  it 
seems  only  to  have  widened  and  deepened  the 
stream  of  Christian  feeling.  Many  benevolent 
labors  are  recorded  of  her  ;  among  others,  the 
origin  of  the  Philadelphia  Society  for  the  relief 
of  destitute  widows.  Her  mind,  though  calm 
and  practical,  was  not  destitute  either,  we 
may  conclude,  of  enthusiasm  ;  since  her  poetic 
effusions  were  widely  circulated,  and  highly 
praised  in  the  literary  circle  in  which  she 
moved  :  while  the  eulogium  passed  upon  her 
after  death,  by  Dr.  Benjamin  Rush — that  she 
had  *  a  mind  elevated  at  once  by  nature,  edu- 
cation, and  religion,'  will  be  sufficient  warrant 
that  she  must  have  been  a  woman  far  above 
the  ordinary  mark  of  female  talent  and  attain- 
ment. 

Of  the  fitness  of  Mr.  Hobart  for  the  sacred 
office  upon  which  he  was  now  about  to  enter, 
little  doubt  can  be  entertained  by  those  who 
have  traced  him  through  the  course  of  his  early 
years.  In  all  academic  studies,  wherever 
placed,  he  had  stood  pre-eminent ;  but  these 
he  little  valued,  except  for  their  bearing  upon 
spiritual    character.       '  The    improvement   of 


BISHOP     HOBART.  239 

the  heart,'  said  he,  '  should  be  the  end  of  all 
our  acquirements,  and  to  no  purpose  are  we 
made  wiser,  if  we  are  not  also  made  better 
men.'  His  theological  attainments  too,  how- 
ever inferior  to  his  own  demands  upon  himself, 
were  such  as  called  forth  the  high  approbation 
of  his  examiners.  '  His  signal  proficiency,' 
observes  Bishop  White,  referring  with  his  cha- 
racteristic modesty  to  this  period,  '  although 
the  fruit  of  his  own  talent  and  industry,  yet  1 
have  ever  since  pleased  myself  with  the  hope 
that  he  may  have  derived  some  little  aid  from 
what  it  occurred  to  me  to  suggest  to  him.' 

But,  whatever  may  be  thought  of  his  intel- 
lectual proficiency,  in  that  preparation  of  heart 
which  he  most  sought,  and  without  which  all 
other  is  valueless,  there  can  be  no  question  ; 
and  his  own  doubts,  so  often  and  so  feelingly 
expressed,  only  strengthen  the  conviction,  that 
he  was  in  truth  inwardly  called  and  fitted  by 
the  Spirit  of  God,  for  that  career  of  Gospel 
usefulness  he  was  destined  to  run,  but  yet 
trembled  to  enter  upon.  '  It  pleases  God,' 
says  he,  writing  to  a  dear  friend,  '  and  O  how 
grateful  should  I  be  to  him  for  it,  to  continue 
to  me  a  deep  impression  of  the  necessity  ot 
repentance  ;  to  give  me  daily  convictions  of 
the  danger  of  living  in  this  world,  without 
bemg  prepared  through  the  merits  of  a  Saviour 


240  MEMOIROF 

to  leave  it ;  and  also  constantly  to  direct  my 
view  to  another  in  which  my  happiness  or 
misery  depends  upon  the  use  of  my  time  and 
talents  here.'  *  Far  am  I,'  says  he  again, 
'  from  thinking  that  I  am  qualified  for  the 
ministry,  either  in  mental  or  spiritual  acquire- 
ments. I  want  every  requisite  ;  but,  by  the 
goodness  of  God,  I  may  at  last  obtain  those 
quahfications  which  will  fit  me  for  entering  on 
it.'  '  Sacred  and  awful  will  be  my  duties  ;  the 
grace  of  God  can  alone  enable  me  to  execute 
them.  O  pray  with  me,  that  in  my  entrance 
on  this  important  office,  I  may  have  a  single 
eye  to  his  glory,  and  the  salvation  of  immortal 
souls — ^pray  that  he  would  subdue  within  me 
every  desire  of  honor,  emolument,  or  human 
.praise  ;  and  that  I  may  serve  him  with  sincerity 
and  truth.'  '  I  am  afraid,'  he  again  adds, 
'  that  my  views  are  not  sufficiently  pure  for 
the  ministry — that  I  have  not  sufficiently  in 
view  the  ends  for  which  it  was  instituted  ;  but 
I  hope  that  God,  for  Christ's  sake,  will  bless 
me,  and  that  he  will  make  me,  in  his  hands  the 
humble  instrument  of  turning  many  to  righte- 
ousness.' 

With  such  preparedness  he  came  forward, 
and  on  Sunday,  the  3d  of  June,  1798,  was 
admitted  to  Deacons'  Orders,  in  Christ  Church, 
Philadelphia,   by  the  same  hands  which  had 


BI  S  H  0  P     11  OB  ART.  241 

there   received   him    at   the    font   of  baptism. 
Many  circumstances  concurred  to  make  it  a 
deeply   affecting    scene.      It  was   the   church 
of  his    father's    age    and    his   own    youth  ;    it 
was  the  church  in  which  he   had   been  bap- 
tized and  confirmed,   and  where  all  his  early 
pious  affections  had  been   nurtured  :    he   was 
surrounded,  therefore,  by  all  those  visible  asso- 
ciations which  on  such  occasions  press  most 
home  upon  the  heart.     It  was  in  the  presence, 
too,  of  an  only  parent,  an  only  brother,  and  an 
only  surviving  sister.     To  have  looked  at  that 
moment  upon  his  widowed  mother,  must  indeed 
have  touched  his  inmost  soul,  for  that  day  was 
to  her  the  fulfilment  of  all  her  dearest  hopes, 
the  completion  of  a  thousand  cares,  and  the 
reward   of  as   many  anxious    tears  ;  and  if  a 
blessing   may   be   won   from    Heaven   by  the 
aspirations  of  human  affections,  we  may  confi- 
dently beUeve  it  was  drawn  down  on  that  day 
for  such  a  son  by  the  trembling,  grateful  pray- 
ers of  an  aged  Christian  mother.     His  voice 
from  the  pulpit,  when  soon  after  called  upon 
to  ascend  it,  must  have  indeed  sounded  in  her 
ears  like  *  glad  tidings  of  great  joy  ; '  and  what- 
ever may  have  been  the  effect  of  his  discourse 
upon  others,  she  at  least  must  have  realized  at 
that  moment  the  truth  conveyed  in  the  words 
11 


242  M  E  M  O  I  R     O  F 

of  his  text,  'Her  ways  are  ways   of  pleasant- 
ness, and  all  her  paths  are  peace.'  * 

But  the  mention  of  the  pulpit  reminds  the 
biographer  that  the   '  early   years '   of  Bishop 
Hobart  are  ended,  and  his  '  professional '  one- 
begun,  and  consequently  that  his  own  pleasing 
labors  must  now  draw  to  a  close. 


Such,  then,  is  the  picture  exhibited  of  the 
head  and  heart  of  John  Henry  Hobart,  during 
the  years,  so  often  idly  spent,  of  boyhood  and 
youth.  It  is  one,  the  truth  of  which  cannot  be 
doubted,  since  it  is  given  in  letters  too  familiar 
to  be  insincere,  and  too  numerous  to  leave 
any  thing  untold  which  has  a  bearing  upon 
character  :  such  letters,  the  product  of  an  age 
equally  unplanning  and  unsuspecting,  when 
there  are  no  ends  to  gain,  and  no  part  to  play, 
may,  therefore,  be  safely  taken  as  the  genuine 
picture  of  native  feelings,  and  the  character 
they  give  received  as  the  true  character.  Nor 
do  those  letters  stand  alone :  they  are  more  than 
borne  out  by  the  undeviating  testimony  of  all 
who  knew  him.  Respect  for  his  talents,  love 
for  his  virtues,  and  admiration  for  his  whole 

*  Prov.  iii.  17. 


BISHOP     HOBART.  S43 

character,  seem  to  have  been  the  universal 
sentiment  inspired  by  his  course,  at  a  time 
when  there  could  have  been  no  motive  for 
concealment  or  exaggeration,  either  from  fear 
or  flattery. 

And  what  is  the  picture  thus  presented  1  It 
is  that  of  a  youth,  fatherless  from  his  infancy, 
and  removed,  in  general,  from  the  watchful 
eye  of  his  mother  ;  left,  therefore,  to  himself 
and  his  own  guidance  during  those  years  when 
passion  is  strongest  and  resolution  weakest, 
and  yet  pursuing  with  undeviating  steadiness 
the  path  of  virtue  and  honorable  diligence  ; 
no  hour  wasted,  and  no  task  forgotten,  and 
yet  no  claim  rejected  of  sympathy  or  active 
kindness.  Take  the  estimate  of  his  character 
from  his  teachers,  and  he  was  the  faultless 
student  ;  take  it  from  his  companions,  and  he 
was  the  true-hearted  friend,  guiding  the  igno- 
rant, counselling  the  thoughtless,  aiding  the 
distressed,  and  improving  all,  making  his 
friendship  to  be  esteemed  by  them  an  honor, 
and  by  their  parents  nothing  short  of  '  a  bless- 
ing.' Thus  from. his  boyhood  did  his  life  run 
on,  a  limpid  stream  and  a  straight-forward 
course  :  with  no  rocks  of  passion,  no  eddies 
of  indolence,  no  turbid  pools  of  vice,  to  de- 
form, delay,  or  darken  it.  A  cheerful  spirit 
was  to  him  as  flowers  upon  its  borders,  and  a 


244  MEMOIR     OF 

clear   conscience    like   bright  pebbles   at   the 
bottom. 

If  it  be  now  asked  what  thus  raised  him 
above  the  ordinary  follies  and  vices  of  his  age  1 
what  strengthened  him  '  to  scorn  delight,  and 
love  laborious  days  ? '  how  it  happened  that  a 
high-spirited,  talented,  and  ardent  youth  was 
never  led  into  skepticism  by  pride  of  intellect, 
nor  by  conscious  talents  seduced  into  indo- 
lence, nor  by  ardent  passion  betrayed  into 
vice  ?  we  can  only  point  for  answer  to  that 
tone  of  heartfelt  piety  which  marked  him  from 
his  tenderest  years,  and  which  as  he  advanced 
became  in  all  things  his  ever-present  and  over- 
ruling motive — '  his  boon  companion,  and  his 
strong  breast-plate.'  This  was  the  secret 
of  his  excellence  and  his  strength,  enabling 
him,  not  only  to  walk  himself  uprightly  in 
slippery  paths,  but  to  lend  a  helping  hand  to 
others.  It  was  indeed  a  piety  of  the  true  sort, 
rooted  in  the  understanding,  nourished  in  the 
affections,  and  witnessed  by  the  fruits  it 
brought  forth  in  the  life, — a  piety  not  of  words 
but  of  deeds,  making  his  heart  tender  and  his 
thoughts  kind  —  his  feelings  ardent  in  every 
good  cause,  and  his  hand  active  in  every  deed 
of  benevolence, — a  piety  too,  not  of  proud 
human  philosophy,  but  of  deep  Christian  hu- 
'  mility,  conscious  of  its  own  frailties,  and  laying 


BISHOP     HOBART.  245 

hold  with  fervent  hope  on  a  Christian's  only 
confidence — the  atonement  and  mediation  of 
a  Redeemer. 

Such  is  the  picture  of  Bishop  Hobart  in 
early  youth  ;  and  childish  and  uninteresting  as 
it  may  be  in  many  of  its  details,  the  Editor 
would  yet  fain  hope  that  it  will  not  be  wholly 
without  use  ;  that  with  his  contemporaries  it 
may  confirm  the  love  and  admiration  of  those 
who  knew  him,  and  correct  the  misapprehen- 
sions of  many  who  knew  him  not ;  and  to  the 
rising  generation  in  the  Church,  that  it  may 
furnish  an  attractive  and  persuasive  model  of 
whatever  in  youthful  character  is  '  pure,  lovely, 
and  of  good  report.' 


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